By: Amanda Weir-Gertzog awake againcirca 4amsweat rivuletsglisten my skin slick to the touchbreathing rusheda postmenopausalpainted blush aura cherry redflashbang my headknocking sleep’s dooronto nightmares bed rest often remainsa memory, estrangedsomnambulancemy brain unchained

By: Jim Bates High on glueNo, waitNot glue but being togetherThe young boy and his dadWith that model plane they were building. Side by side“Here, son. Let me help.”He guides the boy’s handA slight adjustmentThe wing fits perfectly. Later that…

By: David Patten A landscape of mud.  Thick, invasive.  Like a disease it spreads and clings, fueled by the autumn rains that have pummeled the endless fields of Flanders.  Now, with the onset of winter, comes a hardening as the…

By: David Patten Perseus had been spending time in Sicily and the Italian mainland.  Pasta, wine, caprese.  When your father is Zeus it’s a filial duty to oversee operations in the Mediterranean.  Not one to usually procrastinate, Perseus was wrestling…

By William T. Hathaway Philosophy hasn’t been a popular topic in recent years, but that seems to be changing. Many young people now are interested in exploring the fundamental questions of life. The majority were born between 1995 and 2008,…

By: Linda Barrett One                Tears ran down Isabelle’s face as she left the homeless shelter. They created shining rivulets on her dark chocolate-colored cheeks. The old woman walked out into the freezing rain, holding all her worldly possessions in…

By Karen Lee Stradford I’m looking forward toa good time,seat at the stage.My friends are waitingfor me. They can see the excitementon my face.People dance and singinthe aisles. The woman next to meis rude andsnaps at otherswith a scowl. I…

By James Aitchison An author is not an author.  An author is a brand.         Just like cars, computers, and packaged goods, an author is a brand with unique brand values.         Lee Child is a brand.  Every Jack Reacher…

By: Christopher Johnson They drove toward Starved Rock State Park, in central Illinois, in a 1956 Chevrolet Bel-Air, which Solly’s father had inherited from his recently deceased mother. On either side of the car, mile upon mile of corn and…

By: Kyle Singh Brother You weren’t yourself or really yet slouched over,just a little lost for words, your unwashed face caughtwithin a small amount of doubt, which turned youback into a man, someone– I guess– with wisdom. I never quite…