By: Ann Christine Tabaka Walking past the old dwelling, looking in through doleful eyes. She is an abandoned house, tenebrous windows, crumbling walls. Visions of the past haunt her rooms, as she combs through the disarray. A dark shadow lurking in…
By: Tom Sheehan Bones bang in the house, clutter of vellum lives; knobs of father’s eyes, like tender calf’s, burst once under strain of thick dosage that needled in his thigh, the coolest wedge of calamities, strong sugar epithet, fractional…
By: Caroline Healy he sat at the bar and drank. Intermittently, he glanced at the headlines of the newspaper on the table in front of him, scanning the tragic and the comic, hoping that something would jostle him, evoke…