‘Hazard of Shadows’ which is the book two of Chronicles of the Goblin King series by Mike Phillips has recently been released. While the author and the publishers boast to thrill you with the story, we bring to you excerpt from…

By: Gaither Stewart In my favorite place near the front window with the light from the street over my right shoulder I am reading an essay by Natalia Ginzburg when out of the corner of my eye I register a…

By: Antara Roy Bahadur, that was what we called him. Simply, Bahadur. No one knew his real name, or where he came from, or where, eventually, he went. He was always there; in the garden, tending to the plants, humming…

By: Michael C. Keith Authors have always faced a tough path: chronic rejection, no job security, and low pay . . . if you’re lucky.    –– Ron Charles Shad Newburg was excited that his publisher was arranging a regional…

By: William T. Hathaway My grandma forgets things. She’s got old-timers and mixes stuff up. She’s a sweet old gal but starting to lose it upstairs. She’s living with my parents now that she can’t take care of herself so…

By: Michael C. Keith If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous he will not bite you. This is the principal difference between a dog and a man. –– Mark Twain Something moved in the grass ahead…

By: Raja Jaiswal The crowd around box office was getting noisier, movie had created a good charm over them, the yearning faces of the people had already declared the movie super hit. I stepped down with its three tickets in…

By: Obinna Ozoigbo A capacity crowd has gathered on my father’s acreage, under the luminous Kano skies. The people have come from far and near to cheer my father. They carry placards and banners high in the air, cardboard sheets…

By: Ruth Z Deming Africa is shaped like a voluptuous woman. And Uganda, beautiful Uganda, Uncle Ken told his niece Heather, is almost smack dab in the middle. He was a missionary in a scrappy little town called Busega, overflowing with…

By: Sri Ram I was sure he was going to pull the trigger. The tubular mouth of the semi-automatic pistol, was now pointing to the center of my chest. Chances were ample that, in a few seconds, it may spit…