LOST TIME: A ROAD TRIP JOURNAL By Jordan King
LOST TIME: A ROAD TRIP JOURNALby Jordan King May 19, 2016We had planned for ninety days. Thirty to sell and sixty to close. If it went to plan we’d be ready right when our new...
JOY By Allen Long
JOYby Allen Long In December 2016 in the San Francisco Bay area, I drove to my orthopedic surgeon’s office in considerable pain. Despite near-agony in my right leg, I experienced a sudden overpowering joy. It...
TWO SUMMERS By Rachel Cavell
TWO SUMMERSby Rachel Cavell
It wasn’t fully explainable, the fog of sadness clouding the morning last summer when Integral Tree and Landscaping came to chop down the tree that had lived alongside our house for...
THE LANDLADY By Robert Steward
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 caftan hung...
THE SMALL GIRL By Patrick Hahn
THE SMALL GIRLby Patrick Hahn
I’m lying on the sofa in my bungalow, reading the same issue of Discover magazine for the twenty-ninth time. They don’t have much in the way of printed matter in this country,...
PAU HANA TIME By Kirby Michael Wright By Dr. Raymond Fenech
PAU HANA TIMEby Kirby Michael Wright
IT WAS SATURDAY MORNING at the Moloka’i Ranch. The rooster light broke in through the bedroom window at the bungalow. Chipper Gilman was snoring under the quilt. Julia Wright...
ON FREEDOM – MAN’S EVERLASTING ILLUSION
ON FREEDOM – MAN’S EVERLASTING ILLUSIONby Raymond Fenech
You can’t say that you’re advancing freedom when you use free thought to destroy free will. The determinists come to bind, not to lose. (G. K. Chesterton)
Truth...
THIS IS NOT MY BEAUTIFUL HOUSE By Caleb Bouchard
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 six-thirty on...
LOUD MUSIC By Leslie Tucker
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, open to...
REHABBING RAIN: IN THE SHADE OF THE COTTONWOOD TREE
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, I love rain. I live for rain. I live because...