By: Bruce Levine The road turned abruptly, taking Sydney in what seemed like the opposite direction from her intended route. She didn’t remember seeing that turn when she’d plotted the trip on the map. And she hadn’t bothered to take…

By: John F Zurn Uriel Fox entered the town of Providence in the late afternoon.  The small community was surrounded by forests with a small river running past the town on its way to the sea.  A worn-out trail led…

By Sewell Hong 1.We’ve tried the bed,the sofa and chairs,and every other corner around the flat,including the wooden floor and the woollen carpet,even the kitchen table and the bathtub,but still fail to find a placewhere the wifi connection is good….

By: David Angelo Mussels Obsidian spear tips.Quenelles of dusk.The inside of every shellcarries a perfect skyfrom a spring day.A parcel of mustard-coloured meatwaits for you to trythe sea’s music. Chewslowly, taste every note.Let your tongueabsorb the lullsand peaks hittinglike the…

By: Ann Christine Tabaka Sally was bored, she thumbed her fingers as she sat at her computer desk staring out of the window, watching the newly emerged green leaves dance in the wind. She could not think of anything to…

By: Jim Bates Sunlight glistening on frosted snowIce crystals glimmering and sparkling brightStars floating above in a wintery skyTwinkling with abandon in celestial nightJanuary frozen in winter’s graspWinter’s soulful light burning fierce and fast.Jim Bates 1-13-15

By Mark D. Walker Moritz Thomsen was an iconic author and figure to his devoted fan base, and before his death in 1991 he had written five extraordinary books. Although we were of different generations and never met, we both…

By: Kabaw I heard the beeping of the B03 and K10 Public Utility Vehicle (PUJ) in the busy street of Noloc.   Brakes were squealing. I missed the chirping of the Siloy and Tukmo in the countryside. Our house before was…

By: Pramod Rastogi A fiddle and a bow If I were a fiddle held with a buckleYou could hang me on your shoulderAnd bestride with pride your realmWhere none would dare contest you. If I were a fiddle and you…

By: Robert Levine             In its Ideas section, the May 31, 2009 issue of the Boston Globe published an essay by novelist Alain de Botton entitled “Portrait of the Artist as a Young Data-Entry Supervisor.”  Botton laments that many contemporary…