All posts in Writing

February 13, 2022

Valentine’s Day 2022 at the Café

Posted by Jack B. Rochester in Audio Arts, Writing

Three of our Coffee Club Members Share Their Valentine Stories Thank you, thank you everyone, for sending us your Valentine stories! We baristas have read your work and have tried to select works which portray different human perspectives – this in these days of a seemingly endless pandemic which has darkly colored the Be My Valentine emotions for a lot of folks. Our first Valentine’s Day winner is Wiam Najjar’s short story,”Valentine.” Wiam Najjar is a writer at heart and a school principal in mission. She leads teachers and students then goes home to her sacred haven; writing. She’s been published in online magazines and writing blogs and was shortlisted in the 2018 Memoir Magazine #MeToo Essay Contest. You can check out her articles on MyDramaList and her blog WiamNajjar’s Haven. Valentine “Valentine, you forgot your coffee!” She turned…

Continue reading →

February 8, 2022

A. Rayan El Nadim Presents Performance Poetry

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

Editor’s Note: A. Rayan El Nadim is an Egyptian poet whose work has been translated from Arabic into English here for your enjoyment on The Fictional Café. He categorizes his work as conceptual and performance poetry, specifically, “a deep dive into myths, folklore, and the secrets of inherited improvisational folk songs that deeply express pain, suffering and dream; the history of the Egyptian folk treasures; the songs of Rababa, a rediscovery of the true history buried in the walls of Egyptian houses; and the rituals of joy and sadness that lived for thousands of years on both banks of the Nile.” My name has been crossed out a long time ago on a brick wall -1- I searched for my name in my body I found it engraved in aversion, estrangement, and revulsion I searched…

Continue reading →

February 3, 2022

“A Hail of Stone,” A Short Story by Jane Nkiwane

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

The cry of the KWEREKWERE A hail of stones ran through Shoko’s Shack. His heart pounded so hard as he heard the thundering of the rocks every time they hit his corrugated iron shack. It was a chilly day but he found himself drenched in sweat, his mind was in turmoil. The only instinct he had was to save his life from the marauding monsters outside who were baying for his MaKwerekwere blood. “Come out you maggot!” “Cockroach!” “Scavenger” different voices called out from the mob gathered outside his one roomed shack. On top of the bed was a buttered and worn-out black suitcase with his meager belongings which he had hastily packed inside resting on a threadbare greasy quilt. The zipper had ceased to function. Shoko had wrapped a thick red string around it…

Continue reading →

January 26, 2022

“A Sad Tale,” Poetry by Vera West

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

Editor’s Note: This is Vera West’s first full poetry post on The Fictional Café as our new Poet-in-Residence for 2022-2023. Please help us welcome her to the Café and be sure to read her haunting, heartbreaking trilogy of poems at the end, called “A Sad Tale.” loneliness It’s an odd thing to grieve in advance, to let your mind give you a sample taste of the things you fear; the most flavorful being: loneliness. I’m anxious about the day when my loved ones are all gone, and I’m truly alone. between sisters the first time I told her our father had killed our dog, she hadn’t believed me. Perhaps it was the way I’d said it; “he killed our dog,” was all I’d said. the second time I told her she asked our father and…

Continue reading →

January 24, 2022

“The Last Professional,” A Novel by Ed Davis

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

Editor’s Note: This is an excerpt from the novel The Last Professional, copyright (C) 2022, by Ed Davis. Cover and interior Illustrations copyright (C) 2022, by Colin Elgie. Published by Artemesia Publishing, Tijeras, New Mexico. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. You can purchase Ed’s book here. A story of the River of Steel By Ed Davis Illustrated by Colin Elgie So pay attention now my children And the old story I will tell About the jungles and the freight trains And a breed of men who fell. –Virginia Slim A four-lane highway passed over the Sparks yard at its eastern limit. The highway bridge had pedestrian spirals at each end and a jump-proof fence all across both sides. From mid-span, looking west, Lynden and The Duke could see the entire layout—freight cars hulking in the darkness, car-knocker’s lanterns…

Continue reading →

January 16, 2022

“Chez Mars,” A Short Story by Lisa Verdekal

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

When we first arrived, we christened the fancy habitation station Chez Mars, joking it was the best hotel in the galaxy. Now, a year later, it’s more like a prison. Back then, we firmly believed that our stay here would only be a brief transition period. The incredible innovations in technology would allow us to get back to some sort of normality after our ordeal. Just a couple of more glitches to fix and we would be the first to live comfortably on the planet Mars. Instead, we linger in a perverse state of endless holiday. At the beginning, it started off as a way to keep us entertained while we waited. Initially, we were very impressed. Images of sun and sand and sapphire water played along the walls, the sky darkening and brightening with…

Continue reading →

January 13, 2022

“The Coldest Hour,” Poetry by Zoey Collea

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

The Coldest Hour The mountains, the mountains set adrift on a tundra of pickled grass Springing up like nubby hairs on that of a newborn’s scalp I haven’t taken the time to learn a second language Though the sun burns through the window onto my hair and I can almost smell it burning To know every word inside and out like my favorite song on the café radio at the moment of the day when light slips into its cremation and becomes a dusting around office buildings and parked cars I hold my bag tightly to my side the layers of clothes I have on makes it hard to concentrate, but someone told me that distraction is actually a good thing. When I reach home, I empty the stale coffee I purchased some at the…

Continue reading →

January 11, 2022

“Dead Dreams,” by Sandeep Kumar Mishra

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

In his dreams, Rajan searches for the ghosts. He hunts for them, tracing their footsteps in the dirt. He is back in his hometown—he knows these roads. The moonlight shivers on his skin. The crooked streets rattle around him. His heart burns in his chest. Baba, mama. Where are you? He runs, following the path laid out for him. The streets smell like smoke. Everything is hazy and deserted, shuttered up and locked away. He knows his neighbors behind each door, but no one steps out to help him. They’re too scared. Rajan is terrified, too, but he keeps running. Please, if I could just see you one more time. I didn’t know it would be the last time. I would have said so much more. Baba, mama. When he looks up, the ghosts are…

Continue reading →

January 4, 2022

“Dinner with Jim-J34719,” by Nicholas Schroeder

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

A small Italian restaurant in downtown Seattle, Earth—May 10, 2650. Peter: [enters and sits down at a table near the back of the restaurant] I’m supposed to meet a friend of mine here. Did you see someone come in right before me? Waiter: I believe it went to the restroom. Jim-J34719: [arrives] Pete! How are you? Peter: It’s been ages. I haven’t seen you since the last trade meeting. Jim-J34719: Yeah, that’s part of the reason I asked to meet. Peter: Interesting choice. Jim-J34719: Well I know you always loved Italian food. Peter: Jim, is everything okay? Jim-J34719: No, nothing serious—more of a moral crisis. Peter: Are you collecting that favor I owe you? Jim-J34719: No, I just need a friend: someone to talk to. Peter: Well you got it! It will be like our…

Continue reading →

December 29, 2021

“A Look Back,” Poetry by Duane Anderson

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

A Look Back Look at the past, look at the present. My before and after pictures, one in my teens, head full of hair, one in my sixties, head full of nothing. Where were all the things learned from all the years in between, but time took hold and all was forgotten Look at one, full of potential, then look at the other, head turned around to see what happened. Estate Planning Offers It was confirmed I was getting older after receiving an email on an estate planning webinar addressed to the Class of 1975, and then sending it right during the coronavirus pandemic, to a group that I was a part of, the higher at-risk age group. Was it bad timing or a coincidence, but hoped their message…

Continue reading →