by Burton Shulman Hannah was kneading his arm. It started hurting; Ike pulled it away. “What are you doing?” “Wondering how it would…taste.” Ike sat up. “Come again?” “Your arm.” He stared. “Are you hungry?” She turned away. “Hannah, this isn’t what usually passes for pillow talk. Maybe from here…
by Amory Cutting What a color for a night,The blues behind peachBehind a white plantation shade.The amber of her skin swallowing whole the last drops of sun.And her garnet hairis soaking in the darkness engulfing the western shore.I am lost in ennuiLost in a never-ending race against the moon.And in…
by Marc Livanos I touch cool grittybay waters,full of blue-green wavestossing and rollingplayfully animated,as they crash against the shore. I taste saltiness,carried and flung ontwisting twirlingmisty sea breezes –briny, fishyforever saline. In this roux, the laughingcries of seagulls carrythe wisdom of the ages,as their mocking attitudetaunts me –dude, go home,…
by Fabrizia Faustinella One of my attending physicians, during residency, made sure that every patient who had a birthday while in the hospital would be celebrated. He would step inside the room, followed by students, residents, and nurses and present the patient with a card, a cupcake with candle, and…
by Savannah Todd Our faces are wet with tears as we stand together on the beach, staring up at the yellow balloons. We must look crazy, standing here on the damp sand, huddled together to fight the cold rolling across the empty coastline, our fingers clutched around the bright colored…
by Elizabeth Hanson While some might lament the demise of the English language at technology’s hand, others celebrate how it has thrown open the window to communications at scale, scattering trillions of missives across the earthly airwaves every day. Our thoughts and emotions distilled into a hip shorthand of abbreviated…
by Michele Cunningham Christmas was the biggest holiday of the year for the Pride family. Normally, they gathered at their grandparents house for the big event. But this year they were breaking tradition. Monicha was hosting this year’s annual party. A tradition that had been in their family more than…
by Scott Christopher Beebe it’s been far too long since I’ve seen the sun drift pastyour wide-open eyes matters for naught thatwhen we last spoke, you had said,“Hate the way (I) play this forever dream”of which you’d never seemed apart of its themed scheme each night, we would lieour heads…
by Olivia Delgado In the metallic We washed ourWeeks’ worth of ache, As The boy played the coin machine like it was a savior.
by Lisa Harris My grandmother’s best friend, Vi Cotterfield, knew God. She could see the pulse of God’s work in everything: in her vegetables as they grew, in the trees as they stayed firmly planted in the earth, and in the star filled sky. She could detect a vibration underneath…