Category: Fiction
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Question by Rosie D’Ercole
What do you do? When you would die for the cause But it’s softly killing you Killing Too slowly Too softly They warn you of the storm Not of how calmly it comes in Calm centred with chaos Freewheeling with the breeze It’s so sweet It threatens to sink you…
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leaving by Sarina Okrzesik
we are fragments, glinting goldenin the sunset, furnace sky burningmelting our wingswhich drip down our red-burnt backs and necksa tarring of flamboyant feathers and gray glueour voices echo and dampen, smothered by the heavy humid air every moment marks a new lossevery moment is a grave to rise from black…
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Lloyd’s Worlds by Colby Galiher
Lloyd’s legs dangled from his wooden stool when we played live. As his cheeks billowed and the saxophone wailed those stout appendages of his, never quite reaching the floor, popped and jolted with a terrific elasticity, striking the air like snakes. The music’s intoxication would wheel up from his lower…
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Slingshot by George Thomas
On the drive in from Cheney, he tuned to classical music. Brahms, the readout informed him. Something new for him; he didn’t know why. Maybe that he read classical music was soothing. The engine noise seemed to have fixed itself, or, maybe, the tick-ticking had been his imagination. This was…
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The Dorian Gray Shock by Raymond Fenech Gonzi
Every single thoughtThat haunts my mindTakes me back in timeTo all those peopleI loved some still hereSome have passed,Many moons agoAnd though they’re goneThey are still here,In my heart, in my soul,In memories of long ago. Each one of themShared with me his wisdom:To stay human, endure pain,Even when this…
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Persephone’s Garden by Isabel Ballan
1 Eurydice On my first evening in the land of the Dead I was sent, lamed and limping, to visit Persephone in her boudoir. I sat by her elbow on a silk cushion. She wore green and silver veils, translucent, fraying at the edges. Her shadowed face was…
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New Patterns by Mary McAllister
Just when you notice your life as it is and not how you’d wish otherwiseRearrange all the bits like paper and stringA new pattern’s not hard to devise You think when you’re young you can simply reviseAnd take what you will on the wingJust when you notice your life as…
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The Bell and Basket by Jonathan B. Ferrini
A young lady on a bicycle with a basket filled with flowers announces her arrival by ringing the bell attached to the handlebars. She gently taps on my window to say “hello.” Her smile is wide, happy, and reminds me of the day I saw my wife cradling our…
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On Un-Becoming God by Mercy Grey
God died quietly on a Saturday afternoon. He died on his back, His vast body unharmed and restful. He fell in a field of flowers. Just as a little girl might press expiring blossoms between the pages of her journal to preserve them evermore, God’s wings fanned out around…