Thousand Mirrors, One Face
Poem In thousand mirrors I was looking To see a face – sweet and known In thousands lakes I was swimming To find something lost and gone. How can you seek what you...
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For the term "manifesto".
Cupcakes and Fingernails – Part Fifteen
Short Story She eventually found another stretch of hallway on what could have been the eastern side of the building. Boarded windows lined the right-hand wall, letting in slightly more light through their cracks...
A Letter From the Front
Short Story Dear Louise, I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirit. I wish to extend my best Christmas wishes to you and your family. Although it saddens me I could...
The Rocket
Short Story The morning had a crisp chill to it that had only just started to give way to the sun that creeped lazily over scattered clouds. Between rolling clover-covered hills a red barn...
Animal Dilemmas – Satyr Beaver
Short Story The Beaver led a life of building and maintaining the dam on the brook that run among the trees. It raised four generations and the the first three were already successfully relocated...
Alone In The Morning
Haibun Sensations. The gurgle of the coffee maker. The hum of the refrigerator. The banging of the pipes as the heat turns on. My reflection off the storm door. The grainy patterns of manufactured...
The Mystery Of Miss Marie
Short Story Thursday morning was not good. I awoke lost in shattered memories with regretful sighs as the previous night’s spirit still lingered. I threw the blanket from my body only to realize that...
To Be A Thief
Short Story Please, Sylvia, let me think. Even in the dark, I could see the panic in her eyes as she desperately tried not to curse aloud, once again mouthing, Hurry. Rubbing my...
Stage Direction
Poem Kiss (rewind) Act three comes every night. It’s (soft) fleeting, but my first in years. Hands stroking my hips (nails chewed to the quick). I’m not yours. Was I ever (the sort to...
Breathe Freely
Poem What if I say I am dead before I got to be alive? What if god welcomes you and asks, “How was heaven down there?” Waking up at dawn and listening to...
Cupcakes and Fingernails – Part Fourteen
Short Story The factory doors were thick, gray slabs of metal left wide open. The hallway inside led into near blackness. Broken shards of the ceiling hung down like fangs. Jennifer paused and picked...
