Snow Removal Irony
Haibun Another blizzard, another day off. I brush a half inch of water out of the garage before I start the snow-crusted Toro. The hum of the four-cycle motor fills the frigid air. The...
Image Curve Blog
Cupcakes and Fingernails – Part Sixteen
Short Story She climbed two more flights before coming to an open door, and even then she had to slam against it with her shoulder to widen the gap enough for her to pass...
Pile Of Books
Poem pile of books, old cigarettes dust and a letter on the table wind coming in through the cracks smell and a worn sofa rat remains on the dump floor grass growing in the...
Death And Birth And Breath
Short Story It looked like a warm, crisp day in Copperfield, Calgary. Most of the snow had melted and a cool-sounding wind was hissing through bare and budding tree branches. I never understood the...
Open Meeting
Haibun Standing room only in the community room of a local church on a Friday night. A blonde in knee-high riding boots checks Facebook. The co-chair runs the business portion of the Open AA...
Recordings of Gianna’s Family, Part Ten – Nancy (Final)
Short Story November 8th, 2015. The Sorrentino’s Apartment. [long pause] Alright. I guess we’re doing this. Why not? It’s been long enough. [pause] Kind of. [pause] I don’t know, there’s really not much to...
Cosmic Caper – Part Seven
Science Fiction “Turn around slowly.” Jorwei and Haaga turned cautiously to find a haggard looking guard holding an autoshot carbine in each hand. Jorwei spoke calmly, “Okay, you got us… take it easy…” “Shut...
Away From The Flame
Poem Stories are like marshmallows Burning in campfires Goey, messy, tough to control A dance between you and the world Burning in ways you didn’t expect But making it all stick together All the...
Coming Home
Haibun I empty Mom’s closet. She pulls herself out of bed and into her wheelchair. Frankie plays Minecraft Pocket Edition on my iPhone. Mom pages the nurse’s station twice before Miria arrives with her...
Addiction Is A Common Emotion
Poem Becoming addicted to something really isn’t that hard. It happens everyday. People get addicted to cigarettes. It seems innocent, until it kills you from the inside. I am not addicted to cigarettes. People...
The Red Butterfly, Part Eight – I Danced With Duende
Short Story “I danced for El Cuadillo,” Anna said, bringing me out of my dark thoughts. “I danced for him. And I made a bargain with him.” “When was this?” “A long time ago,” she...
