September 29, 2022

“The Last Supper” by Rachel Cann

“The Last Supper” by Rachel Cann

“Now there’s a view,” said Phil, so smugly I felt like putting my hands around his neck and throttling. Easter Sunday and we were on the concrete deck at the Swampscott home of his best friend under house arrest with bail in excess of a million dollars. It would be the last time they would break bread, the two most feared men in the New England Cosa Nostra. The tide was low; the air charged with the rich, dank smell of home. As complaining seagulls swooped and soared above the deserted beach and the dark, gray Atlantic, I breathed deeply, tried to relax the muscles around my narcissistic heart. The family inside was in crisis. I was always in crisis. Would it never end? Adrenaline coursed through my veins like an out-of-control locomotive, clickety-clack, drowning…

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September 22, 2022

“The Day I Thought I Would Die, ” by Mini Babu

“The Day I Thought I Would Die, ” by Mini Babu

The Day I Thought I Would Die The day I thought I would die the woman who accompanied me to the hospital said, she needs cooking oil for, “tomorrow,” I used up a little of my valued time, to contemplate on, “tomorrow.” Coffee houses, supermarkets and theatres drove past me, coffee, bread and rice were found unseasoned . . . And they went on talking of “coffees” while I rode in a vehicle called, “now.” All things, other than me were yesterdays and tomorrows. ** Talcum Powder The first time I powdered my face, I imitated the manner my father did, tender strokes on the brow, cheeks and chin, and a mellow even rub, from that time on, I thought of him, twice a day, at no unusual hours, later on, I gave up using…

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August 31, 2022

Martha Clarkson Brings Urban Photography to FC

Martha Clarkson Brings Urban Photography to FC

Artist’s Statement: I photograph in order to apprehend the world in a different way, create a story that has not been told before. It could be any number of things that compel me to take the photo, but I am driven to find the neglected vantage that will facilitate an unexpected story for the beholder, each one a little different. *** Martha Clarkson’s writing and photography can be found in F-Stop, Seattle Review, Portland Review, Black Box Gallery, Tulane Review, Hawaii Pacific Review, The Seattle Times, Feminine Rising, Nimrod, Tipton Poetry Journal, Rattle and many more. “Her Voices, Her Room” won the short story prize from Open City/Anderbo.  She has two notable short stories in Best American Short Stories. Martha attended University of Oregon’s Creative Writing Program, and was a past poetry editor for Word Riot….

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August 29, 2022

African Safari Campfire Stories by Lesley Mukwacha

African Safari Campfire Stories by Lesley Mukwacha

“17 guides and a lioness”  Being the head ranger at a fast-growing game reserve in Zimbabwe, I was assigned the duty to take seventeen young aspiring newly recruited guides and game scouts for a seven-day intense training program in the Victoria falls national park, something I enjoyed and was very good at. Something I was passionate about. I was excited beyond measure.  The seventeen young men were also just as excited as this would be their first such experience and would certainly shape them into remarkable safari guides, tour leaders, game rangers, and anti-poaching scouts. We were all ready to get the show on the road. The company had given us two vehicles for the trip into the heart of the park, a 4×4 22-seater overland truck for the seventeen boys and a 4×4 Land…

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