by Leila Farjami After you walkor fly awayfrom your body,a long winter takes hold,with its slumped oaksand graying sun. From your windowinside an empty house,I could watch the garden for days.From above, your eyesmight watch me. Our words to each otherwill be breathwoven into the airoutside of time.My language will…
by Roxanne Finniss It starts at night,when my mind has fallen asleep,leaving me defenseless.The trauma of the blade,thick in width and sharpened to a point,causes bruises underneath my eyes.Why don’t you ever brush your teeth?My fiancé said the other day to mewhen I was laying in my bed all comfy.I…
by Michael McGrath When awakened by a telephone call at some ungodly hour, I’d like to think I’m not alone in my reaction to it. Throwing back the covers, I scramble out of bed, and when I finally locate my phone I’m hesitant to pick it up, automatically assuming that…
by Hibah Shabkhez Usher me in, whispers chaos, grinningWickedly. The earth rails at the grey squaresOf concrete bordered with red lines of brickUpon which you are grotesquely wobblingIn the aimless revolt of youth that caresFor order, and ashamed of it, is quickAnd ferocious in calling for endings – Usher me…
by Brittney Cray In the small, picturesque town of Cresthaven, a shadow loomed beneath the façade of tranquility. It was a place where creativity flourished, where artists found solace in their craft, and where the written word held an esteemed place in the hearts of its inhabitants. But amidst the…
by Kevin Jones (This story contains murder and dark fantasy-horror elements.) I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve been there — to the graveyard. How many times I’ve felt the bone-chilling stares of the headstones as I walked through the raven-black gates. Every time, I gripped my flowers, my…
by S.E. Denny Fri, Apr 20, 10:52 AM (20 minutes ago) Dear Archer, When we first started this project, it was just you and me standing around your parent’s garage playing at being engineers. All the greats start that way: Bill Gates and Allen, Jobs, Wozniak, and Wayne. There must…
by Kevin M. Folliard (This story contains drugs and violence.) Principal Prentis left Burlsbury Elementary promptly, after students had served their weekday detention. Halfway home, she pulled her blue Buick into the corner Safeway to fuel up. She parked alongside pump 3, behind a beat-up pickup. The truck hadn’t pulled…
by Laine Derr When I getmy wits . . . I keep onein the head ready to runready to pop points spray –rat-a-tat-tat that’s howthe thoughts get got, cutand beveled too short totrim the top.
by Bill Kitcher I My dad made me go to the play at the school he was working at for a year. I didn’t like plays in those days. I generally didn’t like things that forced me to go outside. I liked reading and TV. I didn’t like going to…