Poetry
By: Daniel de Culla -Whe’re you going, Poet? -With this bike that’ s going nowhere, I’m going to take a walk through the streets of Ampuriabrava, Girona, where I’m spending a few days and, if its tires aren’t punctured, I’lll…
Non-Fiction
By: Daniel de Culla They say that Euthanasius, to whom people calls Coronavirus, came from China, after gorging on a bat as a first course; second: Pekingese dog, and as a dessert: grasshoppers and crickets, having a vast field in…
Poetry
By: Albi James grace a restaurant deck, by the harbourin breezy sunshine – my cousin, a ministerspeaks of churches brunch arrived, she bows her headsilent in prayer I feel left out, as if two friendsare sharing a secret – one…
Poetry
By: J.K. Durick You ask how often I walk the dog –well, after lunch, after our naps, he’sthere waiting, wagging, making thathumming noise he uses when he’sanxious I’ll forget, get in the car andbe gone without the expected walkthat fits…
Poetry
By: Riddhi Bhattacharya A sunshine poured in and dust crawls around,My frail ears pick up the bark of a distant hound,One by one the casements catch,The suns beams beneath the golden thatch. From there cosy abodes the sparkly eyes peep,Some…
Poetry
By: Alan Cohen Solitude Of course not all sunlit days are yellowI have this one to myselfChimes, garden, goldfinchBright verandaEtched, lacy shadows of a wrought-iron, outdoor tableMaple-stained cedar benchRestless lakewater, nimble, sparkling I withdrawInto the courtyardWhere the stone floor is…
Non-Fiction
By Kimberly Nicole The recess bell rings. It was never on time: the responsibility for ringing it was that of a grade six teacher who often passed that responsibility onto whichever of her students was wearing a watch. I step…
Fiction
By Ronita Sinha The day I brought you home Campari, is the day I fell in love with you. I christened you Campari after a wine-coloured lipstick that I adored at the time. You were, of course, black and white…












