By: Adam Lee Staying indoors How are we meant toescape from thoughtwhen all the activated portalshave shrunk and closedup like the ragged headsof flowers in a summer drought? We are like that wandering ghostwho struggles to re-enterthe locked, richly furnishedmansion…

By: Ezewuzie Nkiruka Being lonely Many are scared of the dark,some are scared of wild animals,some are scared of death,others are scared of insects and strange creaturesbut nothing scares me more than the thought of being lonely.Having no one by…

By Michael Lee Johnson Virus in the Air, Spasms in my Back There’s a virus in the air, but I can’t see it.People are dying around me, but I can’t save them.There are spikes pierced in my back,spasms, but I…

By: Emalisa Rose I go for the wounded firstoffering a bag fill of what’sleft in the fridge; some daysi bring macaroni Roy says most likely his clawgot cut off in a fight; you cansee he’s the bull in the bunch.I…

By Alfred L. Horowitz Howard felt exhilarated, for he had just finished a successful morning business meeting in Tryon, North Carolina. He and his wife lived in California, but had only moved there one year ago from Asheville, North Carolina,…

By K. A. Williams The young woman dressed in a tee shirt and blue jeans was talking with an elderly man outside the grocery store as I walked toward it through the parking lot. After the man went inside the…

By Harrison Abbott 24th Nov 2020 I used to think it was the birds that woke me up. But now I’m sure that I wake up for them. I used to hate being so near the window. Now it’s the…

By: Alison Goeller She wasn’t sure why she had deliberately banged her head against the door jamb that night. Or why she had asked his permission beforehand. She guessed it was her way of diffusing the frustration she felt at…

By Kajetan Kwiatkowski Tricia leashed the gentle giant, combed the fur around his collar, and gave him a prolonged, bombastic kiss. She fought the instinct to sling on the delivery vest hanging from her back door, there was always extra…

By: Janet Brown                 I was standing by the entrance to the dining area of St. John’s Mission when an old disheveled guy came waltzing in slowly, with a “far away” look in his eyes, trance-like, smelling like old sweat…