FictionJoe and the Golden Retriever by Clive Aaron Gill
Tears trickled down Joe’s cheeks into his gray beard. The 75-year-old widower lay alone in a hospital bed in La Jolla, California after he had received a heart-valve transplant. Tubes in his…
Archive
Page 8 of 15
FictionTears trickled down Joe’s cheeks into his gray beard. The 75-year-old widower lay alone in a hospital bed in La Jolla, California after he had received a heart-valve transplant. Tubes in his…
FictionWhat kind of man lives near the ocean and can’t swim? He flinched uncontrollably at the thought, the flash of memory. He’d watched her drown, stood very nearly where he was standing…
NonfictionA Childhood Mini-Memoir To me, vanilla is equal parts smell and taste. There are tastes and smells that have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember,…
FictionOne crow means sorrow, Two crows mean joy, Three crows a wedding, Four crows a boy. Five crows mean silver, Six crows mean gold, Seven crows a secret That’s never been told.…
Fiction(1950-2017) It was 1985 and I was a sixteen-year-old Adonis, washboard abs, a face that made grown women swoon, and more swagger than Mick Jagger on his best day, except that I…
Humor
FictionForehand Luke and Patrick stood on a patch of grass facing away from the row of white painted cottages. A family walked down to the beach, carrying a picnic basket and towels…
PoetrySandhog for Paul Rohan Old scrapper, skin for gloves, calloused knuckles, broken nose that made your face fit your voice: Brooklynese classic-poet-quoting boxer belying your fourth-grade education— Milton, Chaucer, The Bard in…
Art and Photography
PoetrySouthern Belle I am southern belle. Made up of many complexities: unreadable, impetuous, frivolous, unpredictable, and oozing with old south charm. In disagreeable situations, manners prevail. I defend the helpless, cry with…
FictionThumbs Up! Having scoured articles and blogs galore, plus advice columns and rants on Facebook, Resnick knew it wasn’t meant to work this way. The key to Hollywood – to getting an…
PoetryInsult & Injury Science is less forgiving of my ideas because storms can be dissected, and I cannot. I can trap a tornado under a cylinder and watch it braid a heart…
PoetryOn the Side She loves me definitely of course but for a little thing on the side who makes her whole. One from column A one from column B better than none…
FictionScales “Come in!” came a voice. Hurley went in and confronted a bald, well-built man in a wife-beater undershirt with an electric guitar strapped on, playing scales slowly, with no amplifier, to…
PoetryDriving the Oscar Meyer Weinermobile: A Love Story Forget, please, the psychology of such a statement, but I wanna drive the Weinermobile, I wanna do I-80 in a hotdog hotrod; and, frankly,…
FictionWhether The sanitation trucks gather from around the city. They bear down on the narrow residential streets of Queens, moving masses of slush and debris from the past week’s back-to-back storms, opening…
PoetryFlight Pattern I once knew what they are called. In one short reach I could satisfy the wondering. But my arms are wrapped against the cold spring wind, the wind that funnels…
PoetryThanksgiving in California November has a lovely way of mixing gold into the grey, as tiny amber cones that dot each redwoods’ evening silhouette A vee of geese, in honking verse, pass…
FictionPieces of Moves Another long pause. The man—let’s call him Theodore Castle—folds the newspaper and throws it in the trashcan. The woman—let’s call her Jocelyn Castle—finishes the coffee and lifts the newspaper…
Poetryher picture stops me I see an ancient spirit rewarded with a new life learning again the wonder of love father still surprised at sudden miracles mother flowing food warmth sunshine and…