January 18, 2021

“The Interruption,” A Short Story by Jason Powell

“The Interruption,” A Short Story by Jason Powell

Each time is the same as before, but each time feels new. He and Grace hold hands in the hallway and stare at Destiny through the streakless glass. Grace chose the name and to see it written on that little plastic band in official type makes her happy. And why shouldn’t she be? The delivery went great. Destiny is perfect.  Everything is perfect. Well, maybe not “perfect.” It’s true, Destiny was unplanned. True, he and Grace don’t have their own place to bring her home to. True Grace’s parents are actively unsupportive of their child and her teenage boyfriend bringing another child into the world. But none of that matters. Grace and Destiny are happy and healthy. That’s what matters. This moment matters. He wishes he could slow time down and stay in this moment…

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January 11, 2021

Maziar Karim – The Poetry of Pondering

Maziar Karim – The Poetry of Pondering

1. back home    every morning   alley swallow me   and the city  digest me  I know  in this swarm  the night puke me  and I will back home again       2. empty rifles     rifle opening   is not scary  when every morning  with toothless mouth flowing   and at the night  with empty rifles   back home      3.   no name    cervix  was the beginnings  and crater  was the end of big bang?  I wish instead galaxy  we observed human      4. curved universe    Cloud mass of black whole  it bends the galaxy  the sun  it bends the earth  leaf  it bends aunt’s feet   and pain  it bends human’s feet  we haven’t been guilty   we just born  in the curved universe        5. Human     Human is a cosmic   Between two kisses   and a hug       6. To levitate    To fall  and…

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January 6, 2021

“The Witness” A Short Story by Derrick R. Lafayette

“The Witness” A Short Story by Derrick R. Lafayette

I spent the entire day in bed staring at the white ceiling. If you stare at it long enough, it begins to sweat. Mother always said I was an “overthinker.” When she remembered me, before Alzheimer’s. Before the inevitable change where we all wither. I never believed it until now.  I scrolled through my phone searching for the app that controls my life. Since my remote’s been lost in the abyss of my apartment, I needed it to tune in and tune out. It was an ungodly hour. I could tell from the pulsating tangerine glow of the streetlights on my white curtain blinds. During particular times in the night, they malfunctioned. I used to think microscopic cameras were inside snapping pictures of me. Aliens sending morse code. Or, that I was subconsciously controlling it with my mind, trying to send myself a message from within. A myriad of paranoid fantasies. I take pills now. I’m better now. I don’t think as much. …

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December 29, 2020

“Prince of Satan,” A Short Story by Mbizo Chirasha

“Prince of Satan,” A Short Story by Mbizo Chirasha

A solitary baboon barked throughout the night. The barking sound was the stitch between silence and darkness. Dogs never barked to anything. Owls were ironically trapped in their dark nests. Dawn arrived unexpectedly. My father coughed from the pit of his lungs. My skin tightened because his cough was deep. His incessant loud snores disturbed the silence. Fingers of the sun soon filtered into my torn blanket. Intense heat pricked my whip-lashed back. I felt an irritating pain inside me. I sneaked out of my night trap with a bold start and peeped into the real world through the crevices of my rondavel. I couldn’t believe my innocent eyes. Just outside, next to river, stray dogs whined and snarled amid a leisurely sexual act. I made an embarrassed laughter. They danced in their act as…

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December 27, 2020

“Pirate Ayanna and the Seagulls,” by KJ Hannah Greenberg

“Pirate Ayanna and the Seagulls,” by KJ Hannah Greenberg

Ayanna, who was already an old salt, licked her right paw. The Curse of the Abandoned Scallywags had visited her. She next licked her left paw and then looked across the boat to the crow’s nest on the mainmast. If only she had believed Cook, she might not be limping.  He had warned the crew, after they had dragged him out of the sea, about the curse. More exactly, he had scolded them, while he shook water out of his fur, heedless of who was standing nearby, that blaspheming another soul would bring retribution in the form of conveyance. More explicitly, as he had sucked down the first mug of rum given to him, Cook had declared that whoever spoke words of affliction, upon the furry head of another, would cause their merits to relocate to that other feline and would cause that other feline’s woes to transfer to them.  At the time, the assembled cats had laughed and had patted Cook on the back, all the while suggesting that his brain was as waterlogged as was his coat. After refilling his mug and throwing a blanket to him, they had returned to their duties. None had paid full attention to his jabbering. …

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