by John Timothy Robinson The elegance of light through sconce-dust glass with swirled, transparent fingerprints in grooves is not as pleasing when the chill sweeps past, this image, so cliché, yet still as true. Six tiny candles flicker in darkness as frozen rain hammers tree-limbs to the ground. They said…
by Gonzalinho da Costa On the photo of Jennelyn Olaires grieving over her husband, Michael Siaron, published in The New York Times (August 3, 2016) He is the poor man unjustly executed by the state. She is the desolate woman of inconsolable loss. He dies sputtering in the darkness of…
by James Ryan No one shall be forgotten who was great in this world. Søren Kierkegaard, Fear and Trembling Hot it was, wincing hot. Just another radiator-bubbling August afternoon for the drivers of southwest Missouri. But not for me, a thin-blooded, pale-faced Bronxite from New York City. I felt the…
by Olaf Kroneman I feed the starving. I feed the dying. I’m no Mother Teresa, but the act of feeding the unfortunates who can’t eat appeals to me. How could you not like the person who feeds you? You don’t bite the hand. I feed people, patients, whose stomachs are…
by Nancy Ford Dugan I was showing my driver’s license to my mother to prove I was her daughter when I looked out the window and saw two guys maneuvering a body with a plaid sheet over its face into an SUV. “Don’t be silly. You’re not Sally,” said my…
by Kim Venkataraman “Another bite of mashed potato?” “No, but I’ll have a bit more of the stew.” “Is it tasty?” I lift the spoon slowly, my hand cupped underneath. “The beef is tough as a boot but the broth is good.” I’m lying on the daybed on the…
by Lenny Levine The first thing I noticed about Arnold Eaton’s secretary was how beautiful she was. The second thing I noticed was that she was an android. She had long blonde hair and deep blue eyes, and she was sitting behind a large mahogany desk in his palatial waiting…
by Mary Waugaman No. I used this word on purpose. No is definite. No is final. Words are power and I choose mine carefully. Which is why I said No. But you don’t respect my No. You don’t hear my No. Whether I have allowed it too long or you…
by Sarah Odishoo I learned that day on the corner of Wabash and Madison on an overcast spring afternoon what I couldn’t have discovered in any other way. I can recall it every time I think of him, the el train’s whining cutting the air open behind our backs, the…
by Tahseen Béa “This is where I feel it.” Layla said to her husband of two years. “Place your foot on my knee.” He said. Layla placed her bare foot on his knee. He held his foot and touched her ankle, examining the skin and bones of her thin ankle….