By: Rina Olsen The laptop shut with a curt clack. He leaned back and ran a hand through his hair, pushing a sigh out from puckered lips. His hand curled around the tiny chocolate box, which screamed can you find…

By: J. Ross Archer Tommy Stone, a fourth grader with a deformed leg, watches his colleagues playing softball. The resident bully, Clyde Bedingfield, walks by Tommy, bumping him with a knee and sending him sprawling. Tommye is slow getting up,…

By: Karen Lee Stradford We grew up together,next door neighbors.Our siblings close in ages, like steps. We were always full of life, playinghide and seek in the backyard,running around the basesand riding our bikesto the corner store for snacks. We…

By: Jim Bates Early morning sun.Casting golden glowing light.Dewy grass sparkles. Summertime gardenFlowers blooming cheerfullyRefreshing the soul. Fresh corn-on-the-cob.Sweet golden and white kernelsTasting of summer.

By: Ramlal Agarwal  Ruth Prawer Jhabvala came to India in 1951 after her marriage to an Indian Parsi architect and settled in a posh locality of Delhi. She had earned her M.A. from London University by writing a thesis about…

By: Ramlal Agarwal The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje was declared the Golden Man Booker winner, a special one-off award to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Booker Foundation in 2018. It was chosen as the best work of fiction…

By: Raymond Greiner The year was 1947, my seventh. On Saturday mornings my Dad accompanied me to the YMCA for swimming lessons. We took the streetcar from Vienna, WV to Parkersburg, a six-mile trip. The streetcar clattered, as the operator…

By William T. Hathaway Humanity is in crisis. Our social structures are crumbling. Institutions that had seemed secure are now breaking apart. Politicians are figures of contempt. Once-respected news sources are distrusted. Schools have devolved into internment camps. A dozen…

By: Richard LeDue Special Enough To those who are always the victor,remember defeats can be smallas cobwebs we can’t reach with broomsor large like an arachnophobiawe don’t talk about,and that losing is what makes winningpossible, especially when everyone’sgiven a gold…

By Patty Somlo Sarah Miles leaned against the white metal railing, as the ship made its way along the coast. White houses topped with red-tiled roofs spilled down the lush green hillside, not letting go of an early-morning pastel pink…