January 27, 2019

“Night Embers” A Short Story by Tanya W. Newman

Posted by Jack B. Rochester in Member Writing & Art, Writing

The rains had set in two days ago and hadn’t stopped yet. Grace kept her eyes on the gleaming puddles before her on the sidewalk as she jogged while spiky raindrops hit her face and every car that passed sent rainwater splashing, soaking her leggings. She cut right so she could run down to the park, but running downhill became too much for the knees that once carried her with ease and now buckled and gave out underneath her. She crashed to the ground, her hands hitting the pavement first. She didn’t get up right away. She lay there, letting the rain fall over her in her defeat. Her hands were bleeding. The fiery singes in them told her that before she lifted them to see the scrapes and cuts for herself. They’d have to…

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January 23, 2019

“Seth Seeks Sex for Sex’s Sake,” A Short Story

Posted by Jack B. Rochester in Member Writing & Art, Writing

We welcome Paul Negri, a new member of the FC Coffee Club today, with a witty short story for you. Seth Seeks Sex for Sex’s Sake by Paul Negri “It’s so sibilant.” Jamie picked a french fry from Seth’s plate and put it on top of her frisée salad. “That’s the point,” said Seth. He took a sip of water. “Say it fast. Seth seeks sex for sex’s sake Seth seeks sex for sex’s sake. It’s like the sound some women make when they’re having sex.” Jamie filched another fry. “I never made that sound.” “You did. Sometimes.” “I never heard that.” “Of course, you didn’t hear it. It’s like snoring. No one hears themselves snore.” At 39, Jamie looked enticingly older. Trim, pale, blonde, with startling black eyes. She’d overheard one of her high…

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January 19, 2019

For Your Listening Pleasure, The Saturday Night Podcast

Posted by Jack B. Rochester in Audio Arts, Podcasts

Good evening, listeners! Tonight we welcome back to the Café another podcast from Jack J. Ward’s Electric Vicuna Productions, and a second thoughtfully curated old time radio show for your entertainment. From EVP’s Deadline Anthology Series, our first offering is “Clay Pigeon Shooting.” Don (John Bell) takes his employee Andrew (Cayenne Chris Conroy) out for a friendly weekend hunting. The game is something more elusive than deer. Something of an hommage to “The Most Dangerous Game.” Next, we offer for your listening enjoyment an episode of a rare radio show from the mid-10940s, “The Avenger.” It has two earmarks of all crime-fighting radio plays of the era: one, the message is always “crime does not pay” and two, a creaky old organ providing the musical background and scene segues. That said, this is a good…

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January 16, 2019

Leaping Metaphysical Boundaries: John Michael Barone’s Art

Posted by Jack B. Rochester in Fine Art, Member Writing & Art

Artist’s Statement Painter John Michael Barone believes while we gain success as artists and entrepreneurs, it is our duty to help the art scene grow. It is exceptionally important now for artists to be seen as key contributors to the future of our communities. If we do not forge a strong path and build platforms for artists, failure may be inevitable. Working together, we can set sound examples for the future of the arts. If we teach others, they will teach us. We guide them and they will show us the way. As artists young or old, professional or amateur, we can all learn from each other. This will help us all achieve our goals of reaching higher peaks of learning and expanding our knowledge of the artmaking process. Current Work “I have been…

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January 14, 2019

“Want You Gone” A Short Story by William Torphy

Posted by Jack B. Rochester in Member Writing & Art, Writing

It’s a pleasure to welcome William Torphy back to the Fictional Cafe. The last story of his we published was “The Invention of Numbers” in 2016. “Invention” was subsequently chosen by the FC Baristas for inclusion in our forthcoming Anthology — but more on that another time. Herewith William’s newest creation, “Want You Gone,” a fast-paced, witty-wise glimpse into a relationship between a daughter and her estranged father. Want You Gone by William Torphy Cherie was pouring steamed milk over a double espresso when her father appeared at the café dressed in a form-fitting orange anorak jacket, stonewashed designer jeans and millennial sneakers. The pegs in his scalp testified to a recent hair transplant and he had obviously undergone a mid-life crisis facelift, his face tighter than a bongo, like one of those aging Las…

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January 12, 2019

Tonight, Podcasts Return to FC!

Posted by Jack B. Rochester in Audio Arts, Podcasts

Ruby and Jack are pleased to bring you some new audio arts dramas tonight, courtesy of our friends at Electric Vicuna Productions. There are many people out there who work tirelessly, without compensation and often without praise, creating great audio content for our enjoyment. Jack J. Ward is one of those people; see his bio at the bottom of this post. But now, please enjoy the Electric Vicuna production and re-creation of one of the most famous radio dramas ever written or aired [thanks so much, Lucille Fletcher]: “Sorry, Wrong Number.” We’re also including the original version, which was broadcast on the CBS radio show “Suspense” on May 25, 1943 — then again, and again, due to its popularity. It starred Agnes Moorhead, and some years later was made into a film starring Barbara Stanwyck….

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January 10, 2019

Better Latte Than Late, A New Story For The New Year

Posted by Jack B. Rochester in Writing

“Better Latte Than Late” by Rekha Valliappan They dined on mince, and slices of quince, Which they ate with a runcible spoon; And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, They danced by the light of the moon. –Edward Lear Rila works from home at Author, Self-Published. She was a motorbike rider once, in the days when Harley-Davidsons looked a whole lot different than they look today. But she wants to grow a jardin potager—a French urban herbal garden, and sip dynamite charcoal latte the livelong day. So she can write books. Motorbikes is where she derives her courage from—to face life on concrete terms like a man. Where she comes from girls, cradle to grave, do not even ride bicycles, although some books written a hundred years ago suggest women bicycled their…

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January 8, 2019

We Asked. You Replied. Now It’s Our Turn.

Posted by Jack B. Rochester in Book Reviews, Member Writing & Art

Last week we asked you, our faithful Coffee Club members, to share your favorite book(s) of 2018 (after all, it’s a time-honored ritual). We were delighted with your responses and your choices. As promised, now it’s your baristas’ turn to share our 2018 faves. (You can see our bios and pictures of us here.) Our hope is that all of us get to tip one another off to a good read! Jason: “Absolutely THE MARROW THIEVES, I’M AFRAID OF MEN, and THE GHOST KEEPER. Three very different books by amazing authors.” ** Ruby: Sea Swept of The Chesapeake Bay Saga by Nora Roberts is one of the sweetest books I read in 2018. Set on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, each book focuses on one of the four Quinn men. In true Roberts fashion, she provides the reader…

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January 4, 2019

You Shared Your Favorite Books of 2018. Our Turn Next.

Posted by Jack B. Rochester in Guest Posts, Member Writing & Art, News

Thank you to these Coffee Club members for sharing their fave reads of the past year. For those who haven’t and would still like to do so, there’s plenty of time! The link is here. In the next installment, we baristas will share ours with you, and any others who still care to contribute. Thanks to all, and good reading in 2019! — Jack Anne Waldman’s “Trickster Feminism.” I love Anne Waldman and have followed her work for decades. Her last 3 books have been book-length pomes, a very favorite of mine. It’s energetic like a volcano, has the consciousness of a blue whale, the largest mammal on earth. There’s so much to learn here. To celebrate. Shamanic, acute intelligence, a journey we all need to take. – Joanne James * Hi Jack–Hope all is…

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December 21, 2018

M. Stone’s Passionate Poetry

Posted by Jack B. Rochester in Writing

Tryst mid-afternoonthe hotel corridor is quietoutside our room where feeble lightdulls bleached sheets later on when the sky is dueto erupt and hasten darknesswrapped in a fog shroudI have a fifty-mile drive home but right now I am malleablebeneath your calloused palms I am a well-fed bird eager to settlewithin the coarse and tenderthe flesh-and-bonenest of you Unincorporated Places at night you drive, alert for deer and drunkswhile I gaze west, my retinas gather the glowof stray porch lights and second-story windows from communities tucked into collarbone hollowsalong the interstate, which reeks of a paper mill some of their names I mispronounce, but you nevercorrect the strange syllables in my mouth Tenuous is the Thread chaos barely constrained by butterfly wings that make figure eights yet tectonic plates gnash their teeth and continents break could be a low-flying planeor seismic…

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