By Thomas Elson Bierley knew … Monday morning at the tail end of the worst storm of 1982, and Daniel J. Bierley III, sole surviving family member of a third-generation law firm founded by his grandfather in 1913, rushed past…
By: Alex Deramo Something about Rain The first growl of thunder chases us upstairs Water already leaking through the forgotten crack, we push open my bedroom window, Letting the fierce cry of rain into the quiet of my room A…
By: Dirk Dunbar Our Endless Sojourn Watching my shadow switch direction as I follow this babbling brook helps me feel the spontaneity of life’s patterns. Like wheat fields waving to and fro, duck flight formations echo rhythms of wildlife’s dance…
By: Rachel Reyes October 21st, 2017 According to the newspaper clippings on your office wall, you are the brilliant Oscar Markovich, fourth-generation business owner, scrappy and shrewd, fast-talking and foul-mouthed, seventy-six years old but still going strong like a sturdy…
By: Alan Berger There she was. Just sitting there. At the local bowling alley with her friends. As she was waiting for her turn, she thought how lovely it would be if later that evening, the sounds of the bowling…
By: Kusum Choppra Oftentimes waking up is accompanied by a sickening realisation: That some sleep time was devoted to a new painless suicide method. This morning the window net went up to peer down, checking for a clear fall down…
By: Mark Ivan L. Sarin It’s midnight, still thinking about you, Can’t sleep, our memories killing me piece by piece, The continous shading of blue breaks my peace, Nothing to say, nothing to complain, A profane but humane, Slightly plain…
By: Stephanie Kezia F. Henson I wrote to a song and it’s all about you. It’s all about those brown eyes. Those brown eyes that made me fell in love. Eyes that made my world filled with colors. But those…
By: Pat Doran Growing Old I can tell by your handsthat you are olderthan what you say,but it’s the lines underyour eyes that givethe game away.Here you are trying torecapture your younger days,by putting your handthrough his hair,hoping that he…
By: Joel E. Turner Three jobs should be enough, I mean none of them is what you’d really call a job, not like when I was clocking in at the refractory plant, lifting heavy shit to make bricks, running a…