Home NonFiction - Year IV - Number 20 - January 2019

NonFiction - Year IV - Number 20 - January 2019

    ABOUT POETRY, ITS THERAPEUTIC EFFECT, IMMORTALITY AND THE SOUL

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    ABOUT POETRY, ITS THERAPEUTIC EFFECT, IMMORTALITY AND THE SOULby Dr. Raymond Fenech Whether messages were conveyed in prose or poetic form, I always knew that there was something special...

    MY BROTHER By Lisa Reily

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    MY BROTHERby Lisa Reily Huge, swollen knees stare us in the face, only partly hidden by a nylon floral hem. We follow the flowers up to a mouth filled...

    WHY THE REVOLUTION OF MODERN LIFE IS INTELLIGENT, MORAL AND BEAUTIFUL By Thomas...

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    WHY THE REVOLUTION OF MODERN LIFE IS INTELLIGENT, MORAL AND BEAUTIFULby Thomas Dexter Kerr It is an exciting and hopeful time to be alive. A revolution is sweeping the...

    CHILDHOOD AS OTHERWORDLY THINGS By Emily Wilford

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    THIS IS NOT MY BEAUTIFUL HOUSEby Caleb Bouchard   What does one wear to the estate sale and auction of a well-regarded Atlanta attorney turned wife-murderer? This is the question I ask myself at...

    THIS IS NOT MY BEAUTIFUL HOUSE By Caleb Bouchard

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    THIS IS NOT MY BEAUTIFUL HOUSEby Caleb Bouchard What does one wear to the estate sale and auction of a well-regarded Atlanta attorney turned wife-murderer? This is the question...

    LOUD MUSIC By Leslie Tucker

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    LOUD MUSICby Leslie Tucker   He is mournful and scornful, bellowing about love in vain, alternating a velvet baritone with a nasal whine. Thick, damp hair flops at his shoulders. His ivory-colored sequined jumpsuit,...

    REHABBING RAIN: IN THE SHADE OF THE COTTONWOOD TREE

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    REHABBING RAIN: IN THE SHADE OF THE COTTONWOOD TREEby Brianna Heisey I was born and raised in the desert. Like most desert plants and animals,...

    A HUNDRED PENNIES By Christopher Major

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    A HUNDRED PENNIESby Christopher Major Sundays are usually reserved for cleaning and nothing else. I’d made up in my mind that anything worthwhile happened between Mondays and Saturdays. It...

    THE LANDLADY By Robert Steward

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    THE LANDLADYby Robert Steward   Paris, France 2001“I like your clothes,” I said, before taking a sip of my café au lait.“Thank you, Robert.” My landlady touched her headscarf. “I make them myself.”Her silk floral...