Featured Writing

A page from a yearly calendar

Every Year

By Hannah Meade My fiancé, Brian, died exactly five years ago today. Five whole years have already passed and still, I feel the heart-wrenching sadness I felt on the day he died. I find myself snuggling back up in my grey sheets, wanting a few more minutes of peace before…

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Author Archive

Boomerang and Sadie

by Cynthia Roby Boomerang was Sadie’s man, and he got his name by definition: Every time she threw the lying cheater out, she’d cry, howl, and moan, all before that need-to-satisfy ache in her groin pried her thighs apart and let her Boomer back in—until the dag-gone fool never returned….

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George Hodan

Faltered Footwear / After My 5 Cents, I Ran

by Cynthia Roby Faltered Footwear Deflated and dusty soles, desert-dry tongue, aglets in a state of postmortem rigidity, eyelets ringed in jaundice-yellow. Our walks, our past, now in permanent cessation. The miles we traveled, the combing through, the crushing of, autumn leaves. From beneath the table you spied me sway,…

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Lust

By Cynthia Roby When your lust is done with me I’m gonna need a hearse. I’m tired, dry. You have twisted and turned my hips pushed and pulled and stretched my thighs planted snatches of hair in my pillow loved me in every which way a woman can be put…

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