by J. Caleb Thomas For as long as I can remember, Mother rang a silver bell every morning at six. It was small enough to fit in her palm but loud enough to wake the dead. Even when she was bedridden and pale with fever, she kept it on the…
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Copper Drops
by Lee W. Sang My mother told me copper grows more beautiful and balanced with time. That’s why she gave me the necklace—two simple strands of hammered copper discs. She had bought it as some sort of peace offering, but we both knew she wanted me to be the woman…
The Road
by Charles Alexander Neal A long, crooked road stretched between the forested mountains deep in the heart of the country of Mariposa. It was evening and the sun painted the sky in shades of red and gold and cast dusty shadows on the beech trees surrounding a village. The evening…