Saving the World with Frozen Coffee by Eliza Horn
I had always wondered what would happen to frat guys. Occasionally, on the weekends in college, when I was bored of girls’ night and inspired by some sappy rom-com about finding love…
Issue
Issue #2
Page 3 of 6
Sudden Fiction by Sam Barbee
Summer rain rattles the downspouts. I listen to Puccini, perfect music for Sunday morning. From the window I watch grass swell, so eager to turn green. My daughter, fresh from napping, joins…
Solar Eclipse by Sam Barbee
This is not an Easter morning, yet the flaxen moon guarding my tomb of guilt has rolled back, and hovers above the swale. Noontime shadows constrict to picket fences. Snowbirds consider distant…
Hybrid by Sam Barbee
After blight, our chestnut forests rotted. Their shadows now emerge, suffering in furniture and mirror frames, within unconsecrated slights of legend. A ring of scientists now cross-breed remaining Chestnuts with a Chinese…
A Validation Forbidding Mourning by Sam Barbee
Intoning the grim morning, thunder rumbles in the distance. I cozy to you this deceitful dawn, filling our interim while lightening slings its illumination across these naked bodies as we embrace. I…
Trick Photography by Sam Barbee
Saturday night, we gathered before the black and white television to watch a movie: sometimes a western saga, others a biblical classic. Clad in plaid robe and puppy slippers, clutching a favorite…
Horse Training by Renee Rivers
“You can’t train for riding a horse like Pink,” Beth said that day after I dismounted and shakily handed her the reins. As a middle-aged, suburban mother, I should have known better,…
A Method for Monday Mornings by Amber Lucik
Eyes shut in the instant before impact and you have just enough time to wonder what it was that you were seeking before your alarm convinces you it never really mattered. Awake,…
Venice Morning by Bill Melton
Ah, Venice, Your towering ancient walls, Fortresses to hold in the past And stave off the modern. The sights, smells and tastes Assail the senses. Unchanged for these centuries. Stately gondolas Still…
Seashell by Bill Melton
Restless sea, Relentless in your search For the boundaries of your existence, A blue-gray line marks Where the horizon begins, For it is you who tells the sky How low it may…
Hong Kong (Fragrant Harbor) by Bill Melton
Sparkling jewel of the South China Sea, A gem, surrounded by diamonds That flashes with the dancing waves. Your sultry haze Conceals for a moment Victoria Peak, standing guard Over your ancient…
On Natchez Trace by Bill Melton
Pulsating jet engines Begin to fade from memory Jaws begin to unclench Hasty pace, temporarily forgotten As a bit of the past Creeps back into conscious memory. Winding from “Under the Hill”…
Fitzgerald, Georgia by Bill Melton
He was walking by the roadside Half-filled sack in his hand Back bent and eyes averted As he searched for aluminum cans. It was a small town in South Georgia And I…
FictionBig Sky Falling
I met Big Sky when I was 14. It was the only family vacation we ever took, the one to Glacier National Park to “see the bears.” The road from Indiana to…
A Series Of Bridges by Ken L. Jones
The sea lion’s barks dissolved like hallucinations In the hushed tones of the precipitation Where frail birds seemed as other worldly visitors In the drip, drip, drip of thunderstorms and ocean mists…
Walter by Kevin L. Kennel
The rattle of yellow leaves reminds me of clapping hands As the wind reddens my ears with embarrassment over those hollow hours Spent lost in a forest among low knife tipped branches.…
The Elusive Fisherman by Kevin L. Kennel
Feel the hooks pierce my flesh as the gentle trickle of the river soothes the pain which I try to deny, but it burrows into my synapses and looms over the roadmap…
In the Ancient Cemetery by Jim Meirose
Shuffling down the sidewalk, as if intoxicated, between the library and the Meeting House, sun beating down, he reaches the rough concrete steps to the cemetery and stumbles into the cool shade…
Harsh Reality by Gary Beck
There is no forgiveness in nature, except among higher orders, which is closer to forgetting. There is no kindness in nature, except for higher orders, even that is fleeting. There is no…
Swan Song by Gary Beck
I see too many faces bitter and shriveled by the summer sun, smileless masks of drab routine battered by obligations humming survival’s song, the grating sound of a submerging city.