by Jason Grant The entire king-sized bed is mine now, but I can’t seem to move from the left side to the right because on the nights you were here—laying there—if I dared move from my side to yours in the middle of the night it was like I-was-crossing-some-boundary you-needed…
by Ann Marie Wilson-Crockett begins, my legs leaving the warm cocoon of my comforter leading my drowsy feet to the floor. Opening the bedroom door, cats greet my waking, anticipating the clang of the spoon against the tin announcing their tuna and chicken delight Walking upstairs I start calling names the…
by Ann Marie Crockett You wouldn’t think that a bad hair day could go so cataclysmically wrong. Is it possible that a 9-year old can be the fodder, the ignition switch for a middle-aged woman to completely lose her mind? Fifteen minutes in front of the mirror, 5 minutes past…