Fiction

Category

He Was Beautiful by Ron Moore

When tragedy strikes we become sleuths. We reconstruct events to establish the belief that it should have been us, it could have been us, it was our fault or we caused their death somehow. The days pass into weeks, the weeks years until the memory fades and details dim.

Fiction: A Life Like This by Laura E. Smith

A new short story by Laura E. Smith

Must-read

Four Poems by Amuche the Poet

Notes From a Black Figure Model I am a slave to the time. Four 5’s, break. Two 10’s, break. One 20, break. Everytime the timerticks,...

Two Poems by Cody Bock

Dawn of creation With the swirl of a wrist and the twitch of an untamed browRock rose out of oceanAnd light met mountains in the...

A Good Deal by Sunayna Pal

A Good Deal I don't like empty vases populating my tiny house but after uploading my listing of the car I came across a blue Ming vase. Not...
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