*Featured image courtesy of Eric Ward on Unsplash.* L. Lois has submitted some wonderful poems to us that touch on a deep emotional level. She fits right in with our humble community, so let’s give her a warm welcome! Intimate Partner Ricochet Biscuits fragile flowers are precious because they survived the runaround of a dangerous game Ricochet Biscuits played in earnest up is down and questioning sanity is the point where you can’t clarify the rules before the next assault arrives and the survivors spend a lifetime placing themselves in a vase with cracks that seep chips that cut flying objects and words that land crooked forever Literary Ironic from the Times: smart, funny, captivating from the Globe: ingenious literary conceit from the Post: dazzlingly clever, gravely profound from the Telegraph: a comic tale, a masterpiece from the Chronicle: fantastically entertaining from the author: like microorganisms mindlessly intent on some distant objective,…
“Burial,” A Short Story by Peter Dellolio
Leaves and twigs scattered suddenly, as if the last, hurried pat of her seven-year-old palm, hitting the flattened surface of moist earth that moments ago revealed a fourth hole, was somehow acknowledged by the secret watchfulness of nature, and the little whisking breezes, surrounding her finished labors, had somehow bestowed their blessing upon her task. She had left the house as surreptitiously as her tiny form and sincere energy would allow, running down the old boards, almost jumping across the eighteenth-century backdoor steps of the farmhouse, charging into the woods like an infantryman rushing into battle, head held high with quiet dignity and deadly purpose, without even an atom of fear, soul impervious to danger, defying threats to life and limb, lying just ahead in the enemy’s midst. She felt that if the subjects of her…
“Never Never Land,” by Michael Summerleigh
At some point in the evening he turned around and realised he was somewhere he’d never been before; that he couldn’t remember any of the people with whom he’d been in that wherever it was he thought he had been before ending up where he was. What it boiled down to was that he was alone, when at some point in the near past it had been otherwise . . . and now he was lost . . . which had not always been the case in that same shifty construct of reality he had assumed was his normal everyday life. Mostly he stayed on top of things. What frightened him was that it was, nevertheless, familiar; that the sudden crushing weight of what-the-fuck was not new; that he had been there in the Nowhere a thousand times since the day/night/whatever when Timothy Thomas Garmin had woken up screaming because in…
“A Blue Finch”— Short Fiction of Ana Vidosavljevic
Editor’s Note: We are thrilled to present two pieces of flash fiction by one of our members, Ana Vidosavljevic, from Serbia: “A Blue Finch” and “A Yellow Marigold.” A Blue Finch I keep many secrets in the pit of my stomach. My trees and shrubs witnessed many fortunate and unfortunate events that occurred in the depth of my body. And I helped many wretched souls that got lost among my thick tree trunks. On the other hand, I couldn’t help some of them. They were in a hopeless pursuit or running from their own wrongdoings. And their own deserved destiny caught them. One lost soul especially got stuck in my memory. Her name was Hope. Hope was a little blonde girl, not taller than my blueberry shrubs. She came to me breathing heavily, and almost losing breath. She was…
Kira Rice-Christianson — Six Poems
Little White Lies I started carrying around these little white lies; they live here on my face. Like when I ask you a question and your answer seems ingenuine but I smile at you softly, anyway. Or when I fix you a plate and you give me your thanks, and I kiss the side of your head. While inside I scold the woman who does as she’s told, though I lay with her each night in bed. Or when you don’t come home for three nights in a row and I lay awake cracking my knuckles and toes. I picture her holding your body, unclothed. The thought leaves me paranoid, and I look through your phone. I shouldn’t have done that, now I can’t sleep. My body is filled with anxiety and heat. I…