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

Three Poems by Claudia Gary

Shadow Selfie Projected onto shalebut rooted in this planet,we long to countervailthe weight of sandstone, granite,and metamorphic rocks.We welcome paradox. Our presence is a maskagainst the...

Collections by Gail Atwater

Collections My childhood collectionsstamps from every countryplaced neatly in a booktiny porcelain cats in a boxand stories about their livesthat made sense Fifty years later, I...

Wish to be Wind by Garrett Souliere

Wish to Be Wind Two men come,With man-built instruments;They laid on the groundTarps, big, blue, stretchedCanvases collect whatwas left of this year's trees. Brown blankets breakWet...
spot_img