Anarchist and Social Critic By Gaither Stewart   (Note: After my early enthusiasm about the writer and man Kurt Vonnegut, I became skeptical of his skepticism. Was he a phony, I began to wonder? After I met him, his life…

  By: Raymond Greiner The year was 2020; Phil Gordon was 24, with a remarkable body of achievements for such an early time of his life. He excelled academically embarking on a career in technology working for a prominent consulting…

By: April Mae M. Berza Intoxicated with the words evaporating from your lips, I surrender to the innocent passion throbbing inside my chest to unearth the treasure. Silence imprisoned me for a moment until I lose all the fears, my senses…

By: April Mae M. Berza like a falling debris from a construction site slowly committing suicide as it touches the ground, again I looked up to witness how words magnetized the tongue to remain silent as if under oath, the oath…

By: April Mae M. Berza A psychologist asked me my dream last night. I never told her about you, that you colonized my subconscious, paralyzing me until I wake up. I surrender to the idiopathic pain when I realize you are…

By: Brian Michael Barbeito It was in the day and about a couple of hours before dusk when I went out walking. Going down the park path, there was, on the right, the major road and its hustle. Standing there…

By: Arthur Davis The midpoint of my unforeseen journey began in this small, soundproofed enclosure, which boasted one television conspicuously absent a channel selector, four ordinary upholstered chairs, and sofa sitting on a sanguine blue-green oriental carpet. The Blue Room, as…