GETTING THERAPY IN BEIJING IS A PRODUCTION
GETTING THERAPY IN BEIJING IS A PRODUCTION- An excerpt from a novel “Waiting for Love Child”by Maya Alexandri
I went to the International Harmony Hospital family counseling clinic because – well, because I’m an American...
THE NEVER-ENDING WINDOW by Matt Ingoldby
THE NEVER-ENDING WINDOWby Matt Ingoldby
It was sometime in April when I returned from the clinic for a period of rest. My uncle had agreed to pay rent in my absence, but not to look...
THE CLIFF By Kevin Wiggins
THE CLIFFBy Kevin Wiggins
The sky, devoid of clouds, allowed the sun to blister the land all day; until the night and the stars and a full moon prevailed.For Justin, as he sat on the...
AMSTERDAM by Ruth Deming
AMSTERDAMby Ruth Deming
After my second cup of Starbucks Coffee, the world was looking mighty beautiful. As assistant librarian of the Willow Grove Library – and I promise not to joke about the lack of...
THREE BLACK BIRDS By Jose L Recio
THREE BLACK BIRDS
By Jose L. Recio
At dawn, Ana, Carolina, and I set to hike on steep trails from the foot of the Pico de las Espadas onward to the top of that Aragon Mountain. ...
CREATIVE DESTRUCTION by Mark Halpern
CREATIVE DESTRUCTIONBy Mark Halpern
… is the essential fact …
Joseph Schumpeter, economist
The 1980s were all boom, boom, boom. Even at the foreign companies, time raced along its money-greased track. And their guys on the scene—those...
AMBIVALENCE: A LOVE STORY by Claudia Piepenburg
AMBIVALENCE: A LOVE STORYby Claudia Piepenburg
October 20, 20166:00PM
“Mrs. Williams? Alice Williams?” The doctor resists the urge to click his fingers an inch in front of the half-shut eyes of the woman sitting by the...
THE PLANE RIDE By Kay Merkel Boruff
THE PLANE RIDEBy Kay Merkel Boruff
There is a place where time stands still. Raindrops hang motionless in air. Pendulums ofclocks float mid-swing. Dogs raise their muzzles in silent howls. The aromas of dates, mangoes,coriander,...
THE PAINTED BOX by Emily Peña Murphey
THE PAINTED BOXBy Emily Peña Murphey
After my Abuelo Isidro passed away, María Elena began to nag at me, “When are you going to get rid of the old man’s stuff? It’s useless, and it’s...