Evidence, Omerta – by Tanya Simone Simpson

Time stretched out and contracted in dizzying waves as my breathing became shallow and laboured. The air was thin, dark, hollow. I counted, one minute and twenty-eight seconds, one twenty-nine, one thirty and I gasped for breath, an involuntary impulse, a sudden desperate hitch of the diaphragm. The blood was warm through my fingers, over…

That Moment / To Love is to Lose Oneself! – by Prerna Bakshi

That Moment (First appeared in Foliate Oak Literary Magazine)   Like a storm that came from nowhere. Like a newly bought clock that just stopped ticking. Like a pot full of food that took a lifetime in the making, suddenly slipped from the hands to the ground, splattering all over the place. Like a book…

A poetry collection – by Charles Stobaugh

FOXFIRE I will not shrink To my fears As I traverse This forest of nerves, Where the silk lining… Of night Perpetuates And hangs Its confusion Between The skeletal trees. I no longer trust The moonlight. It has tricked me Too many times With its illusions Of opening paths That only turned out To be…

Ghost Highway, a poetry collection by Matt Borczon

Ghost highway #7 It’s a devils kiss beneath a raising sun and the highway is a heart string varicose  vein shoe lace   a suture closing the skin between us.   Ghost highway blues #1 old farm houses blink like eyes along the mystic highway as clouds break loud enough to scatter the crows  …

Curved Horns – by Joe Balaz

Wun voice in Steve’s head asked him witout hesitation,   “Who’s hungovah dis morning?”   He quickly answered,   “Not me but I’m willing to learn.”     Dat tells you how da preceding night went along wit da day before it   and so on and so on.     Give Steve da hair…

A Haunting Bolero – by Clark Zlotchew

Sometimes the mists of time seem to thin, and to part like the curtains of a play, affording an intriguing glimpse of the past.  Intriguing, yes, but disturbing as well. I had a very strange and personal encounter with the past in Cuba.  Not because they’re still driving cars produced in the Fifties. The experience…

The Day I Met Jesus and the Five Stages of Grief – by James Tucker

Jesus came into my lab (his nimbus was beautiful) announcing, “I have returned.” “Your father is dead. I’m sorry for your loss,” I tell him, honestly. “You’re lying,” Jesus accuses incredulously. “He died twice,” I inform him.  “It happened first on July 16, 1945 at Trinity Site.” “You know not what you speak of,” he…

Principal Reese Takes a Night Class – by Neil Floyd

Eugene Reese, Mist Valley High School’s principal, only wanted one thing: an explanation. What the hell happened to the school library? Rather, what the hell happened in the school library? Reese personally surveyed the damage and surmised it was less an act of vandalism and more a force of nature. Mist Valley’s local hoodlums couldn’t…

Darkness, My Old Friend – by Matthew Hoch

There are too many examples to choose from that illustrate how I became such close friends with sadness. I’ve been told, admonished even, to lighten up, find the good in this beautiful world. But, I’m too loyal a friend. The loudest voice protesting my somber ways was Terry Coalter, a friend since my elementary school…

Insanity – by Joyfrida Anindo

He is a little frail but he is okay most of the times. He finds it a bit difficult to sleep, He is burdened by our deeds. I always ask him to come and join me, to be free. He never answers, he just stares at the wall, but I know he considers it. People…

Reason Why – by Melissa Libbey

His hot breath on my neck sends chills down my spine. Quickly his hands are searching my body. Grasping for anything he can hold on to. He grabs my hips and looks in to my eyes. But instead of seeing in to his soul I see my reflection. My desire for him reflects back in…

Manicure – by Steve Campbell

I rub a blunt thumb over the tip of my finger to check for any unwanted nail growth and snag the faintest of threads. It stubbornly folds under the weight of every scrape so I move the finger to my mouth, where the familiar sound of gnawing echoes inside my head. Saliva begins to weaken…