By: Akash Vikas Rumade It was evening of Dusserah. The moon shone brightly in the dark blue skies although the grey clouds were trying hard to conceal it. On such a wintry night Arnab parked his bike at the pool…

By: Ross Durrence She always made full use of the full-length mirror in her apartment. Before she ever left the house she would take much more than a cursory glance at her appearance, surveying her form from head to toe. She…

By: JP Miller Jacob sat at the porch table, lunching on a tomato sandwich, and stared through the rusty screen door at June-bug. Carefully, tenderly, June-bug whipped the axe through the air and divided a log of oak into two…

By: Richard D. Hartwell   My Morning Journal opening entry seems to capture an element of my fixation as a writer. Is there really a compulsion to write? For some there must be, but I think my own compulsion is now…

By: Richard D. Hartwell You could say that the trip decided itself. In the car, on the way to Adalanto, neither of them can agree who had brought up the idea first, let alone how it was finalized. But by six-thirty…

By: Chandra Shekhar Dubey I stretch like an endless desert You flow like a perennial river I have nothing to hide, nothing to give you have in your sleeve a store of a giver. In your eyes there is confluence…

Kobo and Indian booksellers Crossword, WHSmith and electronics retailer Croma, have announced the arrival of Kobo’s digital reading platform in India. Starting today, Kobo will be available in retail locations across India through its partnerships with Crossword, WHSmith and Croma….

By: Dr. James G. Piatt The burnt Willow trees On the smoldering edge Of the lazy torpid brook, Bend to the wind like a Nervous, anxious crowd Waiting for the night train, I watch in silence, feeling a Disturbance in the…

By: Dr. James G. Piatt In the room Where the broken Vase exists Dead roses weep In sorrow, Darkness Covers the Rumpled bed, Splintered glass The diary… unfinished, Too late… Lost in Shadows, A window Broken by False promises Of love…

By: Dr. James G. Piatt I smelled of Birch leaves, a Flowing brook, small pebbles and Youth. My heart was composed of Summer flowers, bumble bees, and The scent of timelessness, my mind Contained colorful ancient rhythms, New poems, and thoughts…