November 4, 2021

“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

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

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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October 21, 2021

“The Star,” A Short Story by Jovan Ivančević

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

Yes I’m alive. It is a surprise for me as well as for you. I’m about to receive yet another reward. This time it is an accomplishment for my entire work. I feel ecstatic, fantastic but a little bit sad. I am going inside, but before doing so, I will look up to at the beautiful night sky. I always do that, wondering the names of the stars so far away. There wasn’t enough time for me to learn their names. The feeling of loneliness follows me, lingers, if not in me then around, always in close vicinity of my being. You might sense why it is like that, particularly those of you who have walked the same path as me. It is here, less than a cubit away, sometimes even closer, going up the spine, lurking in…

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October 19, 2021

“Professor Walker’s Leap of Faith,” by Robert Pope

Posted by Mike Rochester in Writing

This all began one lovely day in May as I walked the flowering roadways of Akron, Ohio. On the sidewalk of Portage Path, a street named after Native American lore from the local past, heading toward Market, which runs through the heart of our small-town city, I saw what looked like an enormous chicken coming toward me. My mind told me it could not be a chicken that large, at least the size of a man, so I took my glasses from my shirt pocket thinking it must be a man dressed for a costume party or some sort of promotional advertisement. With my glasses on, the chicken idea faded away. A powerful-looking man came toward me, yet the sensation of having seen feathers coming off him remained, putting my mind in a quandary as…

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October 13, 2021