Author: Staff

Campfire Stories by Katie Strine

Campfire Stories   I asked him to tell me ghost stories, haunted tales with so much falsity they became a novelty, continually passed from one friend to one fire to another fire and to another friend, time and time again. The one with the hook on the top of the car. I enjoyed that one. The color of rust. The cold C of the hook. The steel scratching at the lustful couple. We nestled around the fire – a patch of snow melted to accommodate us –  and I picked up the bottle of wine, poured another hearty glass,...

Read More

Swarmers by Cassandra Rose Clarke

Swarmers   We drift, snowflakes and stars, never melting, forever burning, the scent of flowers and fresh dirt propelling us along once-invisible veins of travel, now illuminated by the spring sun—ancient pathways leading to the unknowable, the terrible, the beautiful. We spin, swarm, coalesce, fall apart. One of us clings to a single-stranded spider’s web: trapped, wings fluttering frantic as he awaits his death. Above us the grackles circle, shrieking obscenities to one another in the tree branches, hoping to catch us in their fierce beaks, a speck of protein, a flash of fairy wing. But still we leave...

Read More

The Artist by R.J. Davey

The Artist   He applies the first deft brushstroke To a blank canvas stretched upon an old easel At first careful, then carefree As something inside him is released A piece of his soul’s jigsaw clicked into place Shape, form and color, a message in acrylic He will sell it for a dime to pay his rent Only its true value appreciated When he has passed on from this world Leaving a part of his life, his memory For those who come after to ponder upon He lays down the brush by the easel The painting completed, drying, transcending...

Read More

Life by David Novak

Life   “It don’t feel right, Warden. It just don’t feel right at all. Not one bit.” There was a stench in the air. A new stench, that is. A stench that was different from the typical, normal, everyday sort of stench that usually hung heavily through the cells and yards of the Mulder County Correctional Facility. And from the back of his office with his feet perched comfortably, and dare he say commandingly, up on top of his desk, Warden Wilson was trying to come to some sort of conclusion regarding how he felt about that exactly. Now,...

Read More

What’s New?