by Jason Grant The entire king-sized bed is mine now, but I can’t seem to move from the left side to the right because on the nights you were here—laying there—if I dared move from my side to yours in the middle of the night it was like I-was-crossing-some-boundary you-needed…
Featured Writing
Posts Tagged homeless
There is No Country Called America
by Mir Arif We were doomed at the station. There was no inter-city train bound for our destination. Slowly, on the horizon, a cloud was gathering. We could not go back where we came from – it was miles away. The sun’s descent through a blanket of grey cloud was…
George in the Sky
by Cheryl Sola I was born. Damn. Can’t anything go right? That was thirty years ago and nothing’s changed. Today’s my birthday, June 6th. Pa said my birthday numbers add up to 6–6–6. And because that number means the devil, my Pa called me the devil’s child, and got an…
Solace
by Caroline Bruckner He had no name and no place to stay. They called him The Hood sometimes, after Robin Hood, because of the way he lived. Not that he ever stole anything. Nothing worth much, anyhow. If he ever had stuff, he gave it away. He wanted nothing. He…