Fiction
By: Brian Michael Barbeito The stucco walls there, always in the day, and shining from sun that goes to visit. Jacob could hear the ocean gathering strength, at first almost silently, but it was a force that would grow…
Fiction
By David Hariman He’d promised Jack Borger’s widow he’d “stop by some day” to pay his respects. At the time, he never could have foreseen that a flight of steps would make that a physical impossibility. Gordon Zane looked across…
Fiction
By: David Hariman Her makeup was garishly overdone. There was too much eye shadow, eyeliner and mascara. Her lips glared in fire-engine red lip gloss. Her fingers were tipped in acrylic French nails. Her hair, well, her hair was to…
Fiction
By: JP Miller Jack leaned carefully back in the white plastic chair, testing its strength. The dried, sun-bleached seat was thin and chipped, springy and withered. It cracked and moaned with his weight. He kicked off his sandals, leaned backwards,…
Non-Fiction
By Gaither Stewart “Just as over the portal of the antique world there was written the Delphic maxim, ‘Know thyself’, just so over the portal of the new world, ‘Be thyself’ shall be written.” [Oscar Wilde, The Soul of Man…
News
[A review of I Call Myself Earth Girl, A novel by Jan Krause Green] By William T. Hathaway She’s 46. She just found out she’s three months pregnant. Her husband has been away, and she hasn’t had sex in six…
Fiction
By David Hariman It was uncomfortably hot in Sierra Leone this time of year; the cooling, sometimes torrential, rains wouldn’t come for four months. The taxi jolted, hitting yet another pothole. The lone passenger in the front seat, unfazed by…
News
Unless one gets published, there are pains – a whole of lot of them. But once the first hurdles are behind, the race onto reaching the best of you, getting more name and amassing more wealth begins. Many literary artists…
Poetry
By: Taslima Nasrin Translated by: Kousik Adhikari You look like that village On whose sky no sun rises, Only scarecrow clouds gather, Even the moon hides It’s burned face, Trees naked like old pros- No flower blossoms anywhere, In the advent…
Poetry
By: Binoy Mazumdar Translated by: Kousik Adhikari Like walking With an invaluable jewel near A tension makes me pained always, I hear different flowers are there, But bathing in ocean of a person Having cuts, fear shadows my mind, Thinking where…


