By Phibby Venable An angel was perched delicately on the straight back chair in the corner, but everyone pretended not to see her. At least it appeared that way to fifteen – year old Katie, who couldn’t take her eyes off the golden wings and slim figure. “Mama, don’t you…
by James Croal Jackson I walk this familiar streetof spring. Cherry blossoms, sunshine, the desireto drink. Yesterday I snuck into a fieldwith a flask to avoid the knife room Itell myself to stay out of. My longing a blackrolled-up rug. I tell myself Stay wound, trying howI can before I…