It’s indeed an encouraging thing to know that Indians—the middle class Indians—are finally shelling out some of their earnings to buy books, especially fiction. However, it is painful to know that most of them spend on fiction which does not…

By: Eric G. Müller Stacie looked out the airplane window. The last time she was in Cancun she got knocked up. That was fifteen years ago. An abortion, a string of boyfriends and a failed marriage lay between. Now she was…

By: Bamgbose Gabriel   In perfect peace She sleeps after being Coaxed with tender palms And lulled with soothing rhymes… …..The peace of a child She smiles from her dream Exposing her toothless Alveolar ridge, turning Several times to find A…

By: Bamgbose Gabriel   The trees dance As the heavy wind whistles Like an umpire in the green field Opening the long-awaited march It’s about to rain The hackles of the firmament Has risen, risen and ready To vent their anger…

By: Joshua Medsker   Peter Loew dug his hands furiously into the hard clay. “Come on, you rotten son of a bitch.” Swearing at the clay helped him get on top of it and make it do his bidding. He…

The Commonwealth Foundation has announced the winners of the 2013 Commonwealth Book Prize and Commonwealth Short Story Prize. The three female winners of this year’s prizes have written stories set in Trinidad and Tobago, British Columbia and Glasgow’s Hazlehurst estate…

By: Linda M. Crate I had decided that since I never had to read anything by the great F.S. Fitzgerald in high school or college that I would pursue one of his works on my own time. When I first…

A letter by Rudyard Kipling, which he’d written in 1894, has now surfaced in London in which he’d admitted to plagiarising some of his best known works, including parts of the famous—The Jungle Book. It has been reported by a London newspaper which…

punctured in love repaired in grief i‘ve dreams still left i know in brief i search for peace but not in leisure hard work is my duty that’s my only pleasure love was an ordeal it’s now a memory passions exist no…

Once upon a timeI plundered eggsfrom a rickety khokhain my villagenestled in the hillsand ran into the corn fieldsthough chased by houndsand a gaunt owner. Hardly had I tastedthe albumin andchewed the yolkwhen a bolt of metalincapacitated meflattened meamid the…