By Jeannette Kirchner Crushed rock across finger tips bricks to the hand scraping across them. Broken, cracked, faded, colorless stained glass of meaningless scripture. Shame overshadows as pieces of straw fall through the roof scared flocks scattered into the sky. Scurried away from their home built from God’s former home…
By Alex Scarelli I told my husband I was flying to San Diego for a week-long real estate convention, so I had him leave me at the curb for domestic flights when he dropped me off at Logan Airport and, after I’d kissed him and refused his offer to see…
By Leroy Bovee Josh slammed the door rattling the picture window over his mom’s favorite bed of daisies. Should tear all the stupid flowers up he thought. Show her! Always nag, nag, nag – nothing ever good enough. Clean his room, do the dishes, pick up his clothes, did he…
By Lois Hard Standing on the curb, I watch the procession as the world marches by with their flutes and suits made of crackling armor, drums beating to a tune that I can’t see, muted clowns riding indiscernible cars, floats waving their streamers for all to taste except for me…
By Steve Prakope Robert held the trembling puppy in the palm of his hand. The puppy, no longer than his width of his hand, twitched with uncontrollable spasms, its head stuck to the side of its body as if looking behind for danger. Robert saw the second puppy in the…
By Alex Scarelli Thunder sounded as Claire stood from her garden and wiped the dirt off her bare knees. She took off her gloves and wiped her dewy forehead with her forearm. Her shoulders, exposed in one of her ratty tank-tops she used for her daily chores, felt tight and…
Motherhood is A Bright Torture By Stephanie Bryant Anderson I have stood at the gates in Leningrad for 17 months with all of Russia’s mothers. We have begged from ground built by bones of the dead. Lev, I was not meant to be your mother, though I have loved you…
By Tina Rego I hear your voice without a pain in my chest my ears are over you I see your face without hurting inside my eyes are over you I smell your cologne without remembering you my nose is over you I remember your touch without dying inside my…
By Michael Finn A Grandma punched another Grandma In the face. She knocked her down And made her bleed Profusely. She did it for Love. Twisted horns jutted beneath crusty scalp. Grandma’s piercing, shrilling, thundered, “Stay Down you old bitch!” Grandma’s crucifix flipped upside down…
By Amy Fontenot Mother checked her lipstick in the rear-view mirror as we pulled to a stop at the red light. We’ve driven hours to Atlanta so that we wouldn’t run into my mother’s social circle. My stomach churned again, either from the nerves or the hormones. Mother glanced with contempt at my small…