November 18, 2021

“Once Upon a Dog,” A Short Story by Bob Calverley

“Once Upon a Dog,” A Short Story by Bob Calverley

One day Chief Warrant Officer Walters of the 99th Assault Helicopter Company would complain that the Tet Offensive began a month early for him. But on New Year’s Day, 1968, the company’s gun platoon, known as the Headhunters, was still basking in a lull that had begun a couple of weeks before Christmas. No one had been killed or wounded. Not a single rocket or mortar had exploded in Nui Binh Base Camp. Only one helicopter had been hit by ground fire. On New Year’s, the Headhunters returned to the base camp shortly before lunch after a long-planned combat assault was called off. Then they were given a rare afternoon off. Led by Walters, the gunship pilots decided to visit a Filipino engineering battalion stationed in Nui Binh. After lunch, most of the Headhunter enlisted…

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November 15, 2021

“Heather, Ludwig and Nathaniel,” An Excerpt by Derrick R. Lafayette

“Heather, Ludwig and Nathaniel,” An Excerpt by Derrick R. Lafayette

LUDWIG I was surprised she’d read the first chapter. My tutor usually found small detours in any narrative I put forth. It reminded me of looking at a sheet through a magnifying glass, judging the components that hold it together. Inside my glasses were three strands of hair, dust, and a fingerprint, yet, I blinked away the annoyance and kept going. When I finally finished chapter two, I emailed my document to her. She unearthed a cellphone twice the size of her hand, stuck her face into the screen, and scrolled with her pinky. “Do you know what a journeyman is?” the tutor asked slyly, leaving a hum of arrogance in the question. “A nomad?” I responded, unsure. “Ah, but you do know what failure is?” “A worker or sports player who is reliable but…

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November 8, 2021

“Orphan Smile,” The Poetry of Gopal Lahiri

“Orphan Smile,” The Poetry of Gopal Lahiri

Orphan Smile    How hard it is for the stars to weave a story.    It breaks through the wall and chain,  and then in turn, with eyes closed.    Words filter into dark rooms,  unnoticeably, to the tune of the evening.    It is not unexpected, nor is it striped,  wood pencils sketch grey and grey sky.    Each strum is a haze that thins and fades,  the one who sings with all the heart  for a while, is now trapped in the web of memory.    Each mirror reflects the orphan smile,  what remains is the rising smoke of the pyres.      Ancient Palms    We must learn to read, to hold them ever  among the corn fields of the golden year.    Before our eyes, the deep unique shadows  take me up…

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November 4, 2021

“24/7,” A Short Story by Sharon L. Dean

“24/7,” A Short Story by Sharon L. Dean

A fog hovers over Market Street, catching the pungent salt air. I inhale deeply as I slip the keycard into the slot and punch in the extra security code. By mid-morning, the chill of New Hampshire’s early morning spring will warm to 70 degrees. Right now I could use a jacket over my sweatshirt. Inside feels warm, though I know the temperature is set for 60 degrees.   The lights on the security cameras glow. On the far wall, the clock reads 4:05. Its face and hands are large, easy to read from any part of the room even by the people who take off their glasses to exercise.  All around, posters clutter the legal-pad yellow walls. Bright images of bright runners and skiers and swimmers, the swimmers posed cleverly in front of the rowing machine. The place reeks…

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October 27, 2021

“Bleb,” A Poetry Excerpt by Sanjeev Sethi

“Bleb,” A Poetry Excerpt by Sanjeev Sethi

Medic     As casual as strolling on a graveled pathway   in a close-by parkland, words cycle towards   me on my inner track where ideas lap dance  with a tumescent dash. The first draft is born.   This baby needs a battery of nurses and   other paraphernalia. I’m the doc on duty.   Summon the accoucheur for stillborns.       Memento Mori    Campestral locales furnish   the song and dance routine   with a context. Ill-lighted   rooms caution me of you.   When their consciousness   darkles, I am snug as a bug.   Why does sadness complect   my cheeriness? Is alertness   a curse?        Nonfiction    Google and other griefs  chase my working hours.  Nights are cut out for  graphology. In temple of  needs my pelage seeks   your petting. My god   it seems is huffy.      Fair Play    The…

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