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…
“The Star,” A Short Story by Jovan Ivančević
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…
“Professor Walker’s Leap of Faith,” by Robert Pope
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…
“The Life of a Private Eye,” by Michael Larrain
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“Artemis 7,” A Short Story by Zachary Lattman
The world watched as a cool, confident man took his place at the podium. “Good afternoon,” he said with a booming voice that filled the room. “I am Administrator Devin Cernan, and I want to thank you all for being here.” He looked down at his feet, and sighed. “Today is both a hard day, and an exciting day for NASA. In a few moments, Artemis 7 will touch down on the lunar surface, bringing NASA, the United States, and the world, back to the moon for the first time in nearly 50 years. That is a tremendous accomplishment, and it belongs to thousands of men and women, who have worked for decades to bring the Artemis program to fruition. However, today is bittersweet, as the highest priority for the Artemis 7 crew will be…