Home NonFiction - Year VII - Number 50 - July 2021

NonFiction - Year VII - Number 50 - July 2021

    ISOLATION by Cassandra O’Sullivan Sachar

    0
    Isolation Cassandra O’Sullivan Sachar At 10:00 a.m., the tiny Alaskan village still sleeps in this unrelenting daylight. Not one walker crosses my path on my trek to the black-sanded beach; a hulking dog, wolf-like and menacing,...

    THIS WINTER by Bridget Kiley

    0
    THIS WINTER This winter, in collaboration with Covid-19 Bridget Kiley I never wore socks before quarantine, but now I seem to always be in need of them -- digging to the bottom of drawers to find a...

    THE PERILS OF BELIEF by Dian Parker

    0
    The Perils of Belief I joined a cult in my 30’s. My reason for joining was to change the way I thought. Of course, at the time, I didn’t know it was a cult. I was...

    THE FADE by Mary Casey Stark

    0
    The Fade By Mary Casey-Sturk Five people living in a one-bedroom house was not unusual in my neighborhood. I suppose you could call it a neighborhood, though each street seemed to have an independent streak and...

    DISCOVERING by Alexis Garcia

    0
    Discovering “I want you to read something and see if anything resonates with you,” my therapist told me, handing me a booklet.             My eyes focused on the list of symptoms for a mental illness I...

    A BIG WIND KNOCKED IT OVER by Bethany Reid

    0
    A Big Wind Knocked It Over by Bethany Reid Westron wynde, when wilt thou blow,The small raine down can raine.Cryst, if my love were in my armesAnd I in my bedde again! -16th century, anonymous My husband is...

    FOR THE LAND OF THE FREE by Christine Kiefer

    0
    For the Land of the Free             I am wrapped up in a map of the United States of America.  I fall asleep at night picturing the nation.  I have an artsy map of the country...

    THE SOWBELLY TRIO by James Hanna

    0
    My wife, Mary, and I sit on the front porch of our Florida home. Mary is feeling nostalgic, so she asks me a syrupy question. I never feel very comfortable when Mary asks me...

    CONCESSIONS FOR CASH by LeeAnn Weaver

    0
    I got the key out of the lockbox and swung the front door open. The wide, winding staircase and empty hall greeted me as it did every Sunday. I put down my bag filled...