by Nancy Machlis Rechtman He told me that my eyesWere stars twinkling in the nightAnd when he kissed me he murmuredThat my lips were the sweet petals of roses. My heart became the flutterOf birds’ wings soaring through the treesAnd his wordsWere the silky balm on my wounded soul. “Your…
by Hemant Nayak Victor P. Bladishenko loved the sound of crickets, their shiny carapaces snapping between his thick fingers. He thrilled at the crack and pop. He smirked as their legs twitched when separated from unfortunate heads. Victor flicked the still moving parts to Anatoly, his Siamese, who snapped them…