“Ghost” by Anthony Emerson, explores the ethereal nature of love and the world. Anthony lives and writes at the edge of the North Maine Woods. More of his work can be found published elsewhere.
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“Ghost” by Anthony Emerson, explores the ethereal nature of love and the world. Anthony lives and writes at the edge of the North Maine Woods. More of his work can be found published elsewhere.
Read MoreSuzy and her friend Sarah live in Ager. Suzy will quickly learn that the Council of the Wise does not approve of her thinking. The Protectors of Freedom come to her aid.
Read MoreA Lazy Sunday stroll by the lake turned into an epic adventure when Willy was attacked by an Ice Dragon near the Medieval Castle.
Read MoreI am well worn, thumbed through, creased at the edgesAlways stuck on the same page, always mid-sentence,I can neither avert my eyes, turn thoughts, nor paperFor it is my life’s work, knowing something of what’s gone beforeBut no clarity as to what comes nextI live in the now of uncertaintyNo future, beyond skittish dreamsMy imprint…
Read MoreRight now I’m sitting alone in my favorite bistro. A cocktail or two, some delicious comfort food, and possibilities, all lie in waiting. Nights like this call for red lipstick. Nights where, no one you already know can make up for the crappy day you’ve had. The ones where existential crises dictate the order of…
Read More‘It’s a never-ending game of disintegration. I challenge the viewer by not living up to their expectations. I am denying the satisfaction of solving the riddle, hidden within the depth of my artwork.’ By turning his filmic cabinet of curiosity into an intriguing jigsaw puzzle of hybrid geometric patterns, Joas Nebe teases the viewer into accessing his game.…
Read More“I’m going to throw up. I’m going to throw up. I’m going to throw up all over my wedding dress!” I said. “Breathe,” my friend, Monica, replied. I breathed. I didn’t throw up. It was past the time of morning sickness so something else was wrong. The woman in the mirror in front of me reapplied the…
Read MoreSmiling into the morning’s faceI lie under a tree Listening to birds With my eyesI kiss the crooked treefull of rounded fruits A happy crowd held in friendly arms I can do what I wantI watch the river flow Don’t be a slave, don’t be a foolshe speaks to mewhile I cry tears of joy…
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