By: Brian Michael Barbeito It was in the day and about a couple of hours before dusk when I went out walking. Going down the park path, there was, on the right, the major road and its hustle. Standing there…
By: Arthur Davis The midpoint of my unforeseen journey began in this small, soundproofed enclosure, which boasted one television conspicuously absent a channel selector, four ordinary upholstered chairs, and sofa sitting on a sanguine blue-green oriental carpet. The Blue Room, as…
By: Linda M. Crate They lived in a lonely, nowhere town. A goodbye place, a place of new beginnings or endings. It was a rural place full of dirt roads, and a familiarity that could provide comfort and peace of…
By: Nikita Gill August echos of emptiness. **** We parted in July. I loved you too much. I had not thought that would become too much for you to handle. And that we would part on a technicality. It was…
By: Merlin Flower The house looked as if it resented the conversion to a clinic. The notice board announcing, ‘Dr. Baanshyam, M.D., Senior Psychiatrist. Chennai- 89” failed to give a clinical air. I opened the rusty gate destroying a new…
By: Brian Michael Barbeito The stucco walls there, always in the day, and shining from sun that goes to visit. Jacob could hear the ocean gathering strength, at first almost silently, but it was a force that would grow…
By David Hariman He’d promised Jack Borger’s widow he’d “stop by some day” to pay his respects. At the time, he never could have foreseen that a flight of steps would make that a physical impossibility. Gordon Zane looked across…
By: David Hariman Her makeup was garishly overdone. There was too much eye shadow, eyeliner and mascara. Her lips glared in fire-engine red lip gloss. Her fingers were tipped in acrylic French nails. Her hair, well, her hair was to…
By: JP Miller Jack leaned carefully back in the white plastic chair, testing its strength. The dried, sun-bleached seat was thin and chipped, springy and withered. It cracked and moaned with his weight. He kicked off his sandals, leaned backwards,…
By David Hariman It was uncomfortably hot in Sierra Leone this time of year; the cooling, sometimes torrential, rains wouldn’t come for four months. The taxi jolted, hitting yet another pothole. The lone passenger in the front seat, unfazed by…