by George Freek I stare at my unmade bed.Outside, a chilling breezerustles the dead leaves,as if they were feathers.The moon is a ball of lead.I gaze at distant stars,lost in the infinite sky,as if they hadnowhere to abide.A torn shirt, hanging froma tree, waves in the breeze,like an abandoned flag,now…
by Cheryl Sola I was born. Damn. Can’t anything go right? That was thirty years ago and nothing’s changed. Today’s my birthday, June 6th. Pa said my birthday numbers add up to 6–6–6. And because that number means the devil, my Pa called me the devil’s child, and got an…
By Cheryl Sola I have this neighbor, Pearl, who’s a good Christian woman and all that. I see her at her kitchen window scouting for stray cats. They hit the dumpster across the street in the evening and that’s when she does her stalking. For the life of me, I…