by Joni Bour It was a horrible, sideways rain day, seen only on the Oregon coast. I remember that day, because I remember him. He was quaking like an aspen tree, dripping, trying unsuccessfully not to fling water everywhere. He just stood there, not quite making eye contact and barely…
by A.E. Escence I have nothing, at least nothing that matters much anymore. The scene replays over and over in my head; taunting me, inviting me to let it in, to feel it. I sit at his bedside, staring at the unmade bed. The pillow is thrown against the wall,…
by Linda Cue There are no azalea bushes or cool breezes moving beneath the warmth of the sun. My windows are opened and my door is unlocked. Does anyone know? It’s summer all year long now, and the sun burns even while sitting beneath trees. Is it too late? Even,…
by Amaree Semrau It was yellow. “How about lemon-pie?” “I prefer butter-biscuit.” “Isn’t that a bit… dull?” Barry huffed. “If I have to live with it everyday, I’d rather it not be shouting at me every time I go in the room.” “But it should be cheery, Babe,” Martha whined….
By Michele A. Cunningham Machion never had an adventurous bone in her body. Not one. Somehow turning 40 triggered her need to be more adventurous. “What are you doing Machion,” she stated as she waited in the train terminal. Her summer was supposed to be filled with her working on…
by Sarah May Wilson The intermittent bumps of the rail connectors jostle me against the vinyl seat back. Aside from that I am quite comfortable. I didn’t expect a train to be so accommodating to its passengers. Looking up and out through the window to my left, I have two…
by Benny Diaz III Rudy Esparza didn’t like to dance. He couldn’t understand how people could do it, how they could coordinate their hands and their legs to do what the music told them to do. Even as a child, Rudy hated to dance. He used to make fun of…
by Keryna Stutts Her hands were a blue-green map of work and tears of Sunday dinners of scrap quilts. She held the world when his pain became too much. Cracked then filled with weariness. Her hands became my world of fried pies after school, a cool softness on my brow….
by Angela LeBlanc Jaspreet and Birpartap sit in my classroom hands folded, lilted handwriting sings on paper Birpartap looks the businessman part no turban, but nearly cried when he lost his glasses on his birthday Jaspreet is embarrassed to heat up her food spiced and loud She stood, shaking as…
by Keryna Stutts no one ever knew the things that happened when the doors closed when school would end and home was the only place to go in those days the afternoon was scarier than the dark