by Tayler Tucker From his lips billowed wisps of smoke, curling upwards enshrouding the hollow sockets where eyes should have been, cycling in a perpetual dance. His visage bore a labyrinth of wrinkles etched deep into his blueish foggy skin. God only knew where those ‘eyes’ led. His hair hung…
by Joan Mazza On this cold December morning when the firein the woodstove keeps dying, I think of dragonsand their shape, how one could appear at any time with breath that would astound me. I amble downthe stairs to feed the beast another log, to fusswith embers, twigs, and another…
by Bart Plantenga Art students Suzie Soo and Polly Nisian lived in a Dutch college town near the German border on a pleasant street with shade trees and a small playground at one end of the block where nannies watched the children play and, at the other, a cafe with…
by John Grey As the model posed on an attic divan,the artist’s brush fought tirelesslyagainst the two dimensions of the canvas,to convince the eyethat there were really three. Then he waged war against her surfaces,gave what he saw as her true selfmore attention in the portraitthan the simple bow of…
by Matthew Boxer Dr Wilbur R. Hilliard studied the stars, and Dr Arlen Menlo explored subatomic particles and, in particular, the tiniest of such particles, neutrinos, while Dr Wayne Q. Ellington, an ambitious man, concerned himself with everything else in between. Dr Hilliard investigated red giants, blue giants, New York…
by John Mulligan I am a critic, and as I am a critic I criticise this and criticise that, professional at these things, a true, dedicated critic. Now, I am not a literary critic like that Hazlitt, Bradly, Belinsky, Schlegel; but a critic of the movies and not writing for…
by Nolo Segundo If you really want to join the Club of the Old,there’s not much you have to do–just stay alive and wait—andone day—it will seem sudden–you’ll stop lying to yourself—andyou’ll accept the mirror’s wordas truth (for what mirror can lie?)and on that saddest day you’ll say(though still only…
by Russell Rowland When a storm comes down from the mountains,coniferous pines and deciduous oaksstiffen their backbones to bear the brunt of it. You can almost sense this,around you, if the forecast hasn’t kept you home. Birds take heed from the trees,and tighten those little talons. They weather outwhat they…
by Kit Zimmerman This story contains death and drug abuse. “Why’re you putting on makeup?” Julian asked. “Are you going somewhere?” “Yeah, maybe,” Kallie responded, leaning closer to the bathroom mirror. Her steady hand—adorned with chipped red nail polish, cheap rings, and tan lines in place of the frayed friendship…
by Lynn Benoit This short story is an excerpt from Benoit’s novel, “Poppy Write.” Chapter 1 My parents, Charles and Irma Longstocking named their only child Poppy. Surely, they meant well. Assuming that nobody wanted to be one of three Lindas or Susans in their class at school, they gave…