You, Me & Us

by Manuela Timofte One day at the market a lady who was selling apples had two piles of them. At the beginning, it seems strange to see how the same apples, coming from the same apple tree are categorised in two piles: small and big apples. Then thinking, it is normal for it is what we…

Black Widow

by Rae Cod He watched her from a distance as she sat on the front step of her porch, staring with eyes that were somewhere else.  Her beautiful dark hair was piled up in a head scarf.  A tangle had broken free, and he was surprised to see it shot through with white.  Maybe not…

Solitary Life of a Writer by Mathew Robins

Blog Mathew The writer said despondently, “It’s a solitary life, being a writer.” The other man, never one for melodrama, replied, “Then go to a tavern. Have a drink. Buy somebody else a drink. And be a man. You’ll find there are other men willing to share a drink and some of their time and…

Sweet January by Terveen Gill

Blog by Terveen Link The sky bled into the water, just as her womb had bled the day January was born. Her first and only child had been covered in blood and the remnants of a nine month cocoon. The nurse had leaned in with her bundle of joy; the first kiss, the most ancient…

MS EARTH & DR TIME by Mike Steeden

by mikesteeden BEFORE THE GAME OF HUMAN LIFE;An ‘undress me if you dare’frock of early morn’s visionlessmist spares the moorland her blushesNot that the Sun God gives a damnfor he has no regard for modestyno scruples and will unveil her in his own timeonly then she will be unmasked in all her glory AFTER, WHEN…

Bogdan Dragos -Third Time

This morning he sent his third part (third time) of poems that we will publish every Wednesday. I personally thank the author who has many followers who value his written work. j re crivello founder of Masticadores (*) life’ll smile father punched him lightly in the shoulder and said, “Hey, keep that chin up, buddy….

Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm | THE VOICE OF REFUGEES (43)

By Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm / Nguyễn Thị Phương Trâm, the poet and translator, born 1971 in Phu Nhuan, Saigon, Vietnam. The pharmacist currently lives and works in Western Sydney, Australia. What are you thinking The way I talk is funny It is your vernacular You think only you know how to laugh Gosh as…

August 5, by Sara Reichert

Blog Sara Link Good morning, readers. Today, I’m about to head into my second night of pre-testing for my 2nd Degree Black Belt in Kenpo Karate. Odds are at the time this post runs, I will be brain deep in trying to prepare, sore from the previous night’s test, and blinking vacantly over my first…

see through the keyhole By Bogdan Dragos

you can only see through the keyhole but you’re never meant to go through the door She wrote the words on a napkin as she watched from her lone table the couple holding hands and kissing a few tables away Then she turned the napkin on the other side and wrote Maybe I should just…

Hands Up! By Terveen Gill

Blog Terveen Link Hands up! That’s all I had to say. My brother Manu made me practice it a hundred times. Or was it a thousand times? I can’t count. What do I know? Manu says I’m a simpleton. Papa called me an idiot. I remember his last words just before he died. Manu, take…

All in Your Mind by M Robins

MRobins blog if it’s all in your mind then lay yourself on the steel tracks before a roaring locomotive if you want to live if it’s all in your mind don’t bother to love or even care in order to feel if it’s all in your mind don’t bother to think don’t even bother to…

THE LAST AFTERNOON GATHERING by Mercedes Freedman

Summer holiday conversations over lunch in this house are not what they used to be. Through the years, while sitting here in the pergola’s shade, Manuel and I have heard our children and grandchildren debate their ideas loud and fiercely. From those heated discussions what remains now is their sitting on the patio looking lugubrious…

A Child Prodigy: Nathalia Crane by Natalia Zambrotta

Nathalia Crane was born on 11 August 1913, in Brooklyn, New York. She was a poet and novelist who became famous as a child prodigy after the publication of her first book of poetry “The Janitor’s Boy and Other Poems” when she was only 10 years old. The collection was based on romance and influenced…

COLD COMFORT BEGETS FRESH GRIEF by Mike Steeden

Blog Mike link I watched the fledgling widow A charcoal figurine A transcendent remembrance vista White marble upon emerald green Determinedly she made her search Row upon row upon row Pausing every so often Before she made to go Onward, ever onward Until she found the very spot Where her true love was laid to…

Jobless Jesus by Mathew Robins

Blog He’d turned 35. I noticed the grey in his chin and temples was making a faint appearance as the hairline made a gentle recede. We were sitting at Bob Evan’s, celebrating his birthday. He was having pot roast. I had the meatloaf. I asked him, “Have you been looking for a job?” It had…

#Flash Fiction story: Eyebrow Threading

By Matthew Robins She told Gracie she wanted her eyebrows threaded. She said there was a place in the strip mall, around the corner from the liquor store, that did it. Gracie told her mother the truth – that her eyebrows looked fine. Her mother said eyebrow threading looked neat. She said she wanted to…

5 Sitcoms To Get You Through Quarantine

    by Siddharth Chaudhar If there is the best time to have a good laugh, then it is now. The coronavirus has made the world a gloomy place. Although the tales of victories against coronavirus are coming in from across the globe, we might still be in this for a while. As they say, laughter…

18th Century Venice: the Chimneysweep and the Dustman

by Robin Saikia link blog More of Zompini’s engravings, the Spazo camin (chimneysweep) above, and below the Scoazer (Dustman/garbage collector. For me, they have that evoke that rather sinister sense of foreboding you experience when looking at certain tarot cards!

My dear pillow…

By SedenB Watanabe Link Blog Could you please wake me up before the break of dawn, So that I can quietly soak in the mellow first light of the morning sun. Could you please wake me up before the whole world starts to come alive, And set into it’s monotonous motion with incessant honking, I…