465 posts by Mike Rochester

January 24, 2022

“The Last Professional,” A Novel by Ed Davis

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…

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January 19, 2022

“Observations Through Yellow Glasses,” Yong’s New Book!

Posted by Mike Rochester in News

Yong Takahashi moved to The United States with her parents when she was three years old. She grew up in a traditional household where her Korean and American worlds pulled her in opposite directions. Shortlisted for The Sexton Prize for Poetry, Observations Through Yellow Glasses: A Memoir Through Poems invites you to follow her journey as she learns life’s bitter lessons, longs for love, and attempts to heal the wounds she collects along the way. A few words from Yong: “I set out to write a memoir by my fiftieth birthday. Several people asked me not to use their names. I tried to figure out how I could tell my story without pointing fingers so I decided to write about snippets of my life through poetry. Each poem highlights a snapshot of a feeling or…

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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…

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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…

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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…

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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…

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December 31, 2021

“Painting with Morris,” Visual Art by Morris Wiener

Posted by Mike Rochester in Fine Art

Artist’s Statement: My seventh grade teacher, Miss Steinberg, told us that since we would be graduating into high school the following year, we should all have some idea of what we wanted to do with the rest of our lives. She informed us that the following day, each one of us would be asked to come up to the front of the classroom and briefly explain what we wanted to become and why. Well, I don’t believe that anyone was too pleased with that . . . I certainly wasn’t. Not because I didn’t know “what,” but rather, I didn’t know “how.” How am I going to explain to a group of pretty tough guys and girls (most of them played baseball, badminton or basketball) that I wanted to be an artist? Somehow, I got…

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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…

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December 26, 2021

“The Grudge Store,” by Richard David Bach

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

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December 20, 2021

“Thousand Faces,” Poetry by Gazala Khan

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

1. Thousand Faces Ten thousand we saw in a blink, It’s not daffodils moving along with zephyr, With the bounties showered in plains. This time, it’s the migrants. The migrants, Fighting two deadliest pandemics: COVID and hunger. The latter is familiar And former is in voices everywhere. The beads of sweat rubbed by red gumcha* never evaporated, The yearning to return home is discernible. One of them named Sakina walked a thousand kilometers for days So did many others. The kaccha house** awaited her arrival But the journey never culminated. Abandonment commenced, The invisible guest reigned Bleeding toes, sunburnt faces and many empty stomachs Fastened their way to homes. Beyond every pain, the rest of us numbed still moved on. And the second harrowing journey began. * Hindi word used in India to describe cotton towel for wiping sweat. ** A kind of…

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