by Shaun O. Ceallaigh Albert Clark shuffled along the empty church’s central aisle, countering the weight of the oxygen tank on his back with his walking stick. He stopped beside a pew and placed another printout of the Miracle Prayer on the bench. Once he had distributed all ten copies…
by Sarah Carleton A single hummingbird measures the crash and pull of waves beneath a wide sky. No green shimmer and near-invisible flight—the sprite holds still,black as a quarter note. Palms twice the girth of the ones back home rise into the clouds.Royal palms, they’re called, a name that tastes British, like…
by Yuan Changming With their most tender touches, snowflakes Have painted the whole night white, Including the darkest corner in sight Even within a forgotten dream Except the plum tree, standing alone there Under the eastern sky, whose Flowers are blooming boldly against The entire season, more vibrant than blood
by Tony Moreira Time didn’t pass in the attic. It curled, coiled, and even lashed out. It also maintained a dark silence that remembered everything. Filled with timeless dust and shadows, the air carried the awful scent of dread from the years that passed. A single window in the room…
by Rose Mary Boehm 1 The first time I met death I didn’t crumble under its weight. I was very young but recognized that something important had changed. I hadn’t known her that well, but she had been kind, and I would miss her once I understood. 2 They knocked with a big knock. I almost…
by Jeffrey Ronay Forty-year-old Tom Riley climbed into his spacesuit and dialed the helmet ring to the external setting. Angie, the Suit’s reassuring voice, confirmed, “Suit pressure is nominal—internal temperature set to seventy-one degrees.” A smile flashed on his weathered skin, tiny lines drawn from too much exposure to the…
by James Sennett chair was not Bonnie’s. How could it be? None of the telltale slouching evident in the faded cushions made of crushed flowers of indiscriminate species. Fitting just so for the visitor to lounge for a bit before taking the money of the neighbor you hated for stealing your recipe of some pie or other. Like it mattered anyway.
by John Grey you speak in lakes and dead mothers the universe nests like water in your head for a swimmer like you there’s no such thing as drowning just prayers for anything floating on the surface of the years gone by the mercy that’s the reason you have eyes meanwhile all you offer me is a shoreline a rock soft sand to run…
by Johnathon Hannon I push the door open. The clang makes my chest seize, like a spotlight just hit me. The bar reeks of stale beer, sweat, and old regrets, tables sticky with history, booths crusted with secrets no one bothered to clean. People stumble, shout, grind, laugh too loud,…
by Rose Mary Boehm Plankter, a word that’s hardly ever used. You’ll never find just one. Plankter. Any organism living in the water column, says Wikipedia, and incapable of swimming against a current is a plankter. Plankton. Food supply for fish and whales. Even sharks like them as appetizers. In the Big-Bang scheme of things, a human must appear…