by Jessica Bailey The knock came at the most inopportune time. Cassie paused. The whir of her mixer ploughing through the ingredients for a velvet cake was difficult to hear over. The rain pouring buckets outside certainly didn’t help. But then her buzzer sounded, and she hurriedly turned off the…
by Sheree La Puma To my estranged daughter in wake of the recent tragedies in California New Moon in Scorpio. 12 people shot. Dead, College Night, Wednesday. Malibu burning. Ash like a blanket. Black, my mood. Everyone, for themselves. You come at me like a stranger, or don’t come at…
by Steven J. Gray The opportunity arrived and they couldn’t turn it down. Seb had been eyeing the house he grew up in for years. It was on the market once before, well before he was in any position to be considering a home purchase. That didn’t stop him from…
by Caitlin Eha I am the storm Inside, I cannot Be still—the wind Fights, tears at me Battering, blinding The rain falls, flies In my face, like Bullets, biting. The lightning courses Through me—power Rising up, striking out Electricity—is it Hurting, or healing Clouds covering, their Darkness smothering Light, dark—lightning,…
by Amy Covel When my parents told me Being an adult would be hard I thought they meant The stress of paying bills on time Or caring for a husband and three kids Or working forty hours a week. I didn’t know being an adult meant Having fallingouts for telling…
by Twixt A pattern is argyled on the surface of the highland stream, on the trouts’ flank-flash, on the pebbled, fundamental bottom. In its back-drift wake picture-perfects snake.
by Aaron S. Gallagher “I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, “but you have very kind eyes.” That’s a new one, she thought. “Oh?” “Yes. I wanted to tell you that. Would you like to have a coffee with me?” He had an affable smile, tousled short brown hair, and…
by Amy Brian You walk slowly As we go down the road. Mist flicks our cheeks, One thousand tears in the air. Your boots drag against the gravel, Punctuating each step we take. Pebbles scamper, making blissful declarations: Pop, pop, pop. The wind gives us his hello; Its rhythm can…
by Nicholas McGirr I was 12 when I started working for Mrs. Sesser. I remember this distinctly because it was the summer before my 8th grade year. That was 2 years ago. I’m a sophomore in high school now and I’m about to attend Mrs. Sesser’s funeral. That summer was…
by Twixt And the wind blows, and reblows what was blown, and well-felt featly dealt rains are arraigned, a blank bank of souffled clouds appears drained, perky percolations gradually pool.