by Carol Casey The path is trodden, dusty, level.You know it will take youwhere many have gone. Step off—tangles of brambles,sometimes with blackberries,more often with little clawsthat catch on clothes and skin;and tortuous tree roots—inconvenient, sacred data unearthed—subterranean snakelets somehowsifted into snarls for feet to catch.There are stems that twine…
by The Poet Darkling As quiet as is quaint, my fingers tickle their spines on shelves of pine fresh painted. Fat drops of cloudburst freckle the glass of windows ceiling high. I choose one. Only one. It’s old and precious, its leaves wicking wisdom from the Bard himself. I imagine…
by Nina Welding CHAPTER ONE At Esmee’s apartment, September 2012 Gerde rang the buzzer. Nothing. Once more. Still no answer. Esmee was never late for work. She always opened the bake shop and was usually standing behind the counter sipping her coffee when Gerde arrived. For years she had joked…