Amelia Flew Home – by STEVE CARR

AMELIA FLEW HOME by Steve Carr Her feet; those elephantine, calloused, dry, mop-water-dirtied appendages, lifted from the ground, raising that bloated, overworked, undersexed, unappreciated body into the air where she momentarily hovered like a bewildered wounded butterfly unable to flutter its wings. Pushed by a foul smelling breeze that came in through the open kitchen…

she is lion face, i am lemon face – by ZACHARY M HODSON

she is lion face, i am lemon face beneath a slim lick of ice the koi want you to know they have not died this winter you had already budgeted several hundred dollars for next spring which you can now spend on moscato instead   ms lion face was sickened by my poem about refusing…

I Still am me – by MIRELA ATHANAS

“I still am me”   I still am me!   I am, … I still am me, I am the little baby, With the tiny fingers Which I still carry, same shape, same grip; That later learned a dance in piano keys,   I am, I still am me, I am the little girl, I…

Other People – by ANTHONY BLOOR

Other People One person’s meadow is another person’s building site. I look at nature; he looks at property values. He sees a hole in the guttering; I see a sparrow’s nest. There came a day when my neighbour popped by to bring me bad news. The local authority wanted to demolish my home and relocate…

Mr. Schonenberger’s Gift – by C.W. BIGELOW

MR.SCHONENBERGER’S GIFT The fact he hasn’t shown up at the Intensive Care unit doesn’t surprise me. When a father’s expectations are not met, the son suffers, and what I did this time probably borders on extreme – causing acute embarrassment for him. You have to understand for him reputation ranks higher than love, higher than…

Mouthpiece – by JENNY IRIZARY

Mouthpiece My dad was leaning out the car window, catching up with Sofia’s mom, as I ran my finger from my Basque-Puerto Rican surname to the name “Mouthpiece, a Jet,” on the West Side Story cast list posted on the gym door. I ran down to the parking lot with the news that Sofia and…

More – by NICK BLACK

MORE He holds a crisp new fiver between his fingers. “No,” I say, encouraged by the sweat on his top lip. “More.” He sighs and parts his wallet again. “I’ve only got a twenty,” he says. “Have you got change?” “I’ll take the twenty,” I say. “And the five.” Since The Incident At Svetlana’s BBQ,…

Lunch with Maurice – by MICHAEL ZONE

Lunch with Maurice By Michael Zone     I was doing time at the Aqua-Cola warehouse.   My eleventh W2 in my factotum year facing eviction and total starvation.   Maurice, a pudding formed figure with a handlebar mustache, sat across from me during lunch.   A half hour ordeal of me trying to eat…

Kaleidoscope – by JOANNE SPENCER

Kaleidoscope   The ground yawned and swallowed him whole. The glossy white casket of my husband consumed by the earth. I am alone.   My eardrums rupture, my bones melt, my lungs seize my pulse stops. I am a corpse on the grass, among a landscape of stones and yet I can…   See how…

A Six Word Story’s Adolescence by Jeffrey H Toney, PhD

A Six Word Story’s Adolescence It was a strange, beautiful birth. From more than a million possibilities, six awkward words somehow found each other to tell the tiniest tale ever told. It could have been providence, it could have sprung from passion’s spark, or it could have been just dumb lazy luck born from a…