by Rachel Lawrence Godfrey I look at the devastation that is my hotel room floor. I am tired and groggy. The Salat al-fajr dawn muazzin woke me, and I tossed and turned until it was real morning. I am still in-between time zones; not here long enough to be local…
by David Sapp On occasion this distant memory surfaces at curious moments. I’m unsure why. However random and peculiar, I suppose the event, over fifty years ago, had some significance for my young mind. One night when I was six or seven, in my pajamas after my bath but before…
by D.R. James Life has been a grand migrationto where you are today! –well known wisdom I didn’t know! Otherwise,when those raggedy squadronsclamored overhead last evening— three V’s disarrayedlike frayed arrow feathers, their leaders insistent as clownswith braying horns, honkingfor plane geometry— I would have…
by James Croal Jackson The blue plaster walls are crackingwhich we should have been able to see as long asthis house has stood. I catch us looking different directions on the highway, cars zippingthrough; we nearly collide something cosmic. Meaning our souls are ready to ascendfrom our bodies to some…
by Peter Mladinic My dog’s life with eyes closed seemsmore comfortable than with eyes open,I thought, this summer morning, recallinga fall afternoon I looked into those eyesand saw eternity, and felt eternity’s warmth.What is forever? That momentthat not even memory will bring back.
by David Sapp Jim and I certainly weren’t colleagues. He finished a pharmacy degree, and I was an art school dropout – and couldn’t afford Kenyon. I drove a twenty-year-old Ford. He had a flashy new sportscar. He counted pills. I stocked shelves. He said, “That’s a pretty big word…
by Phibby Venable blue ridges, path loose with mud,a halo of fog grayingin a new daythe old womanlaid out her firethe night before,in the rusted woodstove,that still spokeout flames each morning,and sang out cold,as she listened, trembling the newspaper toward warmthe old woman, always in smoke and daydreams, worn outand…
by James Croal Jackson I found you at the bottomof the stairs looking up to whatI thought was me but past metoward the white ceiling thatconceals the sky where wehave watched the birds oftengo to a better place whenthe temperature dropsI held you in my handsstill warm in your finalmoments…
by Rachel Lawrence Godfrey It is springtime here on Grace Island. Still gray and dreary, but the temperatures are warming and we had three days in a row with a break from the constant Pacific Northwest drizzle. The air smells different, crisp and fresh, and buds are coming up on…
by Cidney Mayes “A Heart Destined to Wither” is an honorable mention in Southern New Hampshire University’s 2024 Fall Fiction Contest. A favorite contract of mine: the mortal’s ruinous craving for riches. Everyone knows that gold lasts forever, but hearts such as his are destined to wither. – Margin Note…