by Richard M. Ankers They bothered me. I was bothered. It wasn’t that they tried. Just being in the vicinity boiled my blood. Their voices grated. Their nasal intonations made me want to scream, ‘Say it right!’ If they laughed, it sounded spiteful. When they looked, it made me retch. Again, not because they focused… Leer más Unbothered
by Anca Horga The short night calms me, the moon’s rays caress my young green leaves. I can hardly feel the march of ants tickling me anymore. I sleep in a soft summer breeze. In the morning, as soon as the sun rises up, I get a bucket full of water, my food for the day.… Leer más Thoughts of Green
by Gina Maria Manchego I am waiting in the sediment of the undertow. This vacation tide seems so calm and cool, I coax you to take a dip into good intentions. Azure reflections of ever after promises, leading you into the depths of unexpected intimacy. Those men delight in the thrill, as they ride these… Leer más The Reef
by Dawn Pisturino Joe threw the baseball as hard as he could at his older brother, who pretended to fall over in the dirt with the ball caught snug in his catcher’s mitt. “I got you, Reuben,” the boy shouted. Reuben picked himself up and threw the ball back to his younger… Leer más The Greatest Superpower
by Gina Maria Manchego It started out like any other stormy day for the carver. The intervals of rain, thunder, and lightning were his only companions. He rubbed the grit from his crosshatched eye corners, while he slurped down his whiskey for breakfast. As he always had per old habit, the carver sat next to… Leer más Chisel and Chip
by Marcello Comitini After reading a book, whether it is a poetic collection, essay, novel or philosophical text, I wonder if during the reading I have processed my own thoughts or I let myself be kidnapped by the author’s thought, from his feelings, from his life to forget mine and assume his. In short, if… Leer más Read, Write not to Judge
by Richard M. Ankers I live as a ghost, staring out at oceans of clouds. There are birds here, some riding the air currents with languorous ease, others less so. A robin, if judged by its little red breast, perhaps the wind having swept it too close to the sun, burns in a snowdrift sending… Leer más Where Vultures Gather
by Gina Maria Manchego During these sullen months, memories hang in the nonchalant creases of my mind. I’m only too keen to leave the present behind. Goodbye to the stark and gray, I abandon this gloom like forgotten tapestries in disintegrating castles. Those who play with reality know the secret. Life is not linear, it… Leer más Disintegrating Castles
by Dawn Pisturino Delaware Territory, Colonial America, 1755 Nunganey trudged through the crusty snow searching for signs of beaver and other game. He longed for a blazing fire and his mother’s warm smile. But the villagers were counting on the hunters—the best of the tribe—to bring back fresh meat. … Leer más Trapped in the Snow
by Richard M. Ankers A delicate expression of an encompassing form, she closed around him like a rose petal the night. She sampled of his nectar, and though it tasted bitter to most, found it intoxicating. # She bloomed in the spring of their meeting. It rained that first day. She didn’t care. As though… Leer más Petal
by Rae Cod It had been a slow day. Rita arranged the stickers and badges on the display table for the hundredth time and scanned the street for signs of life. She’d been working this patch for a month. It was promising at first, but foot traffic seemed to by dying off. She’d speak to… Leer más Slow and steady
by Richard M. Ankers It was a miscalculation, nothing more. She expected something I was unwilling to give. Such is life. We avoided the question for the first year, the good year. By the second, we were married, mostly through worldly boredom, and the question arose more often. I had, of course, known her feelings… Leer más The Melancholy Divide
by Richard M. Ankers I see patterns in the darkness, great swirls of black, they flow together like ink in water, separate and disperse. Chunks of reality dipped in obsidian dreams, these are my memories made manifest. I see them in the moment, reach out, but intangible, they slip away. My life has been a… Leer más Patterned in Ebony
by Simona Prilogan I saw my math teacher with a piece of graph paper yesterday. I think he must be plotting something. What did the triangle say to the circle? “You’re pointless.” I had an argument with a 90° angle. It turns out it was right. Did you hear about the over-educated circle? It has 360°! Why doesn’t anybody… Leer más Sunday Math Puzzle
by Marcello Comitini Sometimes I seem to be one of those many country people who live in the simplicity of their hovels. The one who did not know how to turn his work into an industrial process and remained sowing by hand throwing the seeds with gestures from the past in the furrows traced with… Leer más To sow by hand
by Gina Maria Manchego In all my life, I have never seen anything more beautiful than him touching that black Fender Strat. The carved wood and wire, his only muse. He closed his eyes softly, lashes fluttering like monarchs drying off wet wings after a rainstorm. Biting down on his lower lip, he began making… Leer más Black Fender Strat
by Riya Yadav It was just another day, I sat down and a stupid thought popped out of nowhere in my mind, “What do you love about yourself? “ I tried to shrug the thought off. But I wondered what was it that I liked about myself. I was distressing for a mere thought that… Leer más Things I love about me
The coffin was open. Dena Mistry lay in it. The funeral home had ensured that the dead woman looked her best. The funeral director had appointed an accomplished makeup artist. Sasha could do wonders. Dena’s two children, a daughter and son, were relieved that their mother would be buried with her makeup and hair in… Leer más A Dead Woman’s Makeup by Terveen Gill
by Rae Cod “How long has he been infected with the parasite, Mr Kant?” asked Doctor Fenton, keeping her face as neutral as possible. This was the tenth case presenting with intensive acceleration they’d had this week. The patient – the host – was under sedation in isolation; isolation to supposedly protect others from the… Leer más The End of Mankind
by Dawn Pisturino “I should’ve stayed at the university,” Rafe grumbled, gripping the steering-wheel until his hands hurt. “The family could’ve celebrated Christmas without me. I should’ve taken the main highway instead of this shortcut. God knows where I’m at! Who knows what time I’ll get there?” A thick forest of snow-capped… Leer más The Lonely Highway
Gobblers & Masticadores 