Featured Writing

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Voice

by James B. Nicola I heard my mother’s voice today. Thanksgiving  weekend. Ten years this January. My nephew played a very loving voice  mail message from her he has kept on his  cell phone ten years. My brother said he has  kept three such messages. My nephew said  he had another one and wept awhile.  It made…

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Author Archive

When the Will Was a Performance Piece

by Michael H. Brownstein When I pass to the nether world, my dearest, watch for me in the rain. Do not go outside in gentle dress— I will be the acid from hammer fist clouds. When the weather changes, be sure to salt the walkway as you go. I will…

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The House I Never Lived In

by Michael H. Brownstein 1. The door in the wall led to an inner sanctum and the path through the garden to a paved road narrow and bent, through and over. We took it, step by step, against ancient brownstone, gray brick and rock, until the house we never lived…

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A Valley Can Also Become a Depressed State of Mind

by Michael H. Brownstein Everything you wear, you wear to its grave, your gray stockings a small hole near the big toe, its color an undistinguished gray your shirt with a stain your pants frayed at the bottom, a rip in one pocket, change falling freely creating melodies you are…

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