Author: admin

ORIGAMI BY DAVID RADAVICH

A crane lands at the margin of a lake. It is lonely. The wings feel winter heavy, the sun dim as a moon. The water ripples faintly, promising a small movement, rising and falling like breath and breaking the mirror that is its...

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ABOUT LAUSANNE BY DAVID RADAVICH

A Testimony Why do I still remember? Perhaps the beauty of madness in a sanatorium by the water, rage over a stolen suitcase, going lost in city streets, a marriage with promise that broke like glass. Somehow still a city of...

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ON FICTION BY DAVID RADAVICH

Why read anything if you’re not transformed? Right here. Right now. Taken right out of yourself like a floor-lamp rising behind the chair. You have become another for a while, a new face, a new scream, a soul before the ages...

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THE SECONDHAND BY ANNE MORAN HUNSINGER

Sheila followed The Secondhand online. It was the only website she visited on her computer every morning. She even set up “alerts” on her phone, so she’d be the first to see new ads. Sheila knew this was not what her friends had...

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CHATELAINE IN A DIM PANTRY BY ANNE BOWER

counting, cups, saucers deep wooden shelves shadow her would haves, might haves checking plates and might have, if only he, why didn’t she among the ranked soup bowls wish I, wish they, in drawers she doesn’t open compartments...

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OLD STORIES’ PUNGENCIES BY ANNE BOWER

including words donated by a friend She took the plunge to chatelaine her crowded ring of keys invisible to others its weight of duties unguent against the constant knocks on mind’s doors ever-present not-enoughs should-haves...

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BIRTHDAY DINNER BY WENDY JONES

In my twelfth summer, I decided to make a birthday dinner for my mother. This was clearly the height of folly, since she was not only an excellent cook, but also a professional culinary artist. From my mother’s long-fingered,...

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TIMOR MORTIS BY JACK D. HARVEY

We make him dress up, hooded cloak, scythe and skull, the Grim Reaper, put a name to it sinister slapstick to cover the skeleton he is. Furtive footsteps, heard but not seen in the wooly uncertain night, in the darkened hospital...

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MELISSA BY JACK D. HARVEY

In spring you touched me like a newfound flower, kissed me with your rose-red mouth, caressed me with your hands; you said wait till summer, write it down, write it down. Now the river grows hot and slows under the sun, the path...

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RORY’S NOT THAT GUY BY WILLIAM E BURLESON

Rory sat in a cheap folding chair toward the back of the packed courtroom. He knew he didn’t belong here. He knew he had right on his side. “Will all parties in the matter of the State versus Albert Alma please step up to be...

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