By: William T. Hathaway Prisons are one of the few growth industries in the USA today. They are becoming money-making institutions, and profits are rising. New ones are being built and old ones expanded to hold all the new slave…
By: Sobia Abdin I must have been holding the photograph for several minutes in my left hand, staring at it pensively, my head heavy with the weight of my thoughts. Ten years had elapsed since the photograph was taken. Lakshita…
By: Kimberly Potter Kendrick He desired rain boots, specifically Red Rain Boots She being she and him being him She knows wants are not needs He knows what he wants He knows her She knows him Together they scheme Stores…
By: William T. Hathaway Bracing against gusts of wind, I splash through puddles and crush red-orange-yellow leaves that splotch the sidewalk to the radiologist’s office. There I drink the barium cocktail and slide into the CAT scan ring; the machine…
By: G. Louis Heath His brother had been too soft, not soft like his Mom, just weak. In his brother was enough of his mercurial, entrepreneurial, indulgent Dad to spoil him and enough of his gentle Mom to soften him,…
By: G. Louis Heath Our summer cottage stood at a bend in the creek, a beautiful spot on Earth, unlike no other to us. Here our family memories, good and bad, found a home. It was our special place infused…
By: G. Louis Heath A tale filled with the darkest shade of black is a very hard tale to tell. But I must warn the generations unborn. The broken bones in the mass grave dug into the hardpan plain darken…
By: Kimberly Potter Kendrick It’s happening I knew it would It always does It goes something like this Heart pounding out of my chest Fast breaths Short breaths Where is the air? The walls move closer The elevator stops They’re…
By: Kimberly Potter Kendrick “…for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and health, ’til death do we part… the two shall become one… husband and wife…” a kiss to seal the deal is it husband and wife or…
By: Safiyyah Motaib nightmares while I daydream twisting and turning tangled in white bed sheets worn by yesterday’s ghost wanting to frighten me. It synchronizes its float with my shadow’s footsteps; when the sun sets, my shadow fades, but my…