CAPTURE HILL No. 49 By Allen Long
CAPTURE HILL #49By Allen Long My brother Danny and I grew up in Arlington, Virginia, in the Sixties and Seventies. Although this was a period of significant social turmoil because of the civil rights movement,...
HALF OF SOMETHING By John Ballantine Jr.
HALF OF SOMETHINGBy John Ballantine
The glass is half full, even though it is emptying fast. Life seeps out of the body as we wake to another day with the sun rising.The water station, with...
LOOKS OF HAPPINESS By Frannie Gilbertson
LOOKS OF HAPPINESSBy Frannie Gilbertson
Do you ever look at someone and think, “Wow, I am so lucky that I have you”? You catch yourself staring at them, watching the way their lips form into...
I HAVE COME HOME By Antonio Wong
I HAVE COME HOMEBy Antonio Wong
“It is time to wake up. Today is the biggest day and you do not want to miss it,” my grandfather said. As I slowly move away from my...
THE LOSS OF HER By Kimberly McElreath
THE LOSS OF HERBy Kimberly McElreath
That Wednesday started with a pink pig pancake pajama party. In Kindergarten, getting a new weekly letter means a lot. It’s another step toward being a member in the...
HURRICANE MOON By Tony Whedon
HURRICANE MOONBy Tony Whedon
The town where we had rented our cottage that summer when I was thireen, called Port Clyde, sat at the end of a long peninsula that jutted into the Atlantic. It...
DOGS, HOGS, AND SIGNS by Bill Vernon
DOGS, HOGS, AND SIGNSBy Bill Vernon
The motorcyclist turning onto Bakers Road ahead of us had the 1960s Hell's Angels' look, but that impression didn't occur to me then anymore than did the fact I'd...
ANXIETY, TIME, AND BEING PRESENT IN THE MOMENT By Wally Swist
ANXIETY, TIME, AND BEING PRESENT IN THE MOMENTBy Wally Swist
Time presses upon us in innumerable ways. Proust wrote, “When a man is asleep, he has in a circle round him the chain of the...
DEAL BETWEEN FRIENDS By Desirée Jung
DEAL BETWEEN FRIENDSBy Desirée Jung
I open the drawer to find part of myself: shoes from another time, green knee-length boots, amidst books. The objects scare me. Remembering petrifies me – the passage of time haunting. I cannot control my feelings. Before any resistance, the past arrives into the present. I remember when my father gave me...
HUMBOLDT By Thomas Larsen
HUMBOLDTBy Tom Larsen
“Get the gate for me will ya, pardner?”He’s been calling everyone “pardner” for a week now in clear violation of the code. I work the twisted length of wire.“Other way,” he tells...