By Moira Crooks Come sit beside me on the deck The wood is fragrant and hot, the air Silent and holding its breath. Birds are hushed in the spindly trees and even the river is sullenly asleep. Violet orbs of sweetness await their fate, A few sacrificed to taste, you…
By Lois Hard Rain cascades from her cheeks as she mourns the only person she ever really knew. When the advocate comes, he will plead her case, but not until she completes her deed. There is still hope though, even as the liquid drips from her fingertips, and her ashen…
By Michael Rhodes It had been raining for three days. The perfectly manicured lawns were drenched, the flower beds saturated, the drains were overflowing with foaming, bubbling water. It seemed as if the weather was sad. The sky was ashen and gray, sheets of water pouring, thunder rumbling. The suburban…
By Jeremiah Bass “What’s the first thing you remember about the dream when you wake?” Dr. Fischer asked. “I remember the heat radiating off the sand,” I tell him just like I tell him every week when we talk. “Why does the heat seem important?” “It’s so intense that my…
By Jacqueline Ledoux Catherine carefully arranged the coffee, French jam, bread, chocolate truffles, triple-berry cheesecake and dessert plates on the serving tray. She momentarily glanced around the kitchen to see if she had forgotten anything. The hostess was always very meticulous when serving her guests. For herself and the family,…
My mother sobbed when she found out she was having a girl. I was to be the first after two boys and for that, she was ecstatic. I’ve seen the video countless times, each time noting the way her beautiful brown hair stuck to her forehead and her mossy green…
By Joan Raymond Eloise held open the metal venetian blinds between her thumb and first finger. “Frank will you look at that – the O’Conner’s haven’t taken in their trash bins yet and it’s been well over thirty minutes since the garbage truck emptied them.” She snapped the blinds shut…
By Amanda Paulger She said to me once, This earth is one Great big stone Which grew life One great big stone With a heart Beating, awake. We should thank it for being alive. My grandmother preached At her kitchen table Or over the stove while She cooked breakfast, “Vote,…
By Andrew Clark Dewey cracked open a bottle of water and drank deeply. “Oh, damn,” he muttered, half coughing, half spitting water down his chest and all over his dusty boots. “This water is piss-warm.” “What’d you expect, those bottles have been sittin’ out here all day,” Harris said, as…
By Eric Erickson I took pictures of the snowfall down Tenth Avenue. There was something more magnetic about the stills than of the reality. Snow falling, when you are watching it, starts out serene and lovely, then descends into a sort of foreboding, before finally leading to a completely unnerving…