November 18, 2019

The Joyous Poetry of Kufre-Udeme Thompson

The Joyous Poetry of Kufre-Udeme Thompson

I Feel Like Dancing  I woke up this morning–– when the night was making love with the day: Mbodibo all over my body! when the sun was about to be conceived; I felt my spirit yearning; my pulses ticking, for a thing I fought in vain to understand.  Then just when the tiny sweet voices of birds–– Ebomo nkuku, kuku! began to escape the thick bushes behind my hut, resounding new songs of joy and laughter–– my feelings became clear as the mirror; I understand now my long deepest yearning:  I really, really feel like dancing! The urge far surpasses the desire for a woman, but `tis with a woman I want to dance–– Nka iferi, to be precise: the smartest and darkest of all, who’ll twist to my desired feat.  I swear, I feel like dancing! Play me the evil drum made with human flesh–– the flesh of an old woman will give a spirited rhythm; Ntap nkanam, ntap nkanam nkanam. Let Anansa sing me the tune–– Anansa, the water goddess of the Ifa Ibom nation.  I want to dance ekombi; Oh, ekombi itiad ntokon! Let me return to the past. Oyebap, oyebap Bokondo! I want to sway with the ancient; Fetch me my wrapper!  Ekombi is…

Continue reading →

November 9, 2019

The Contemplations of Kathryn V. Jacopi

The Contemplations of Kathryn V. Jacopi

One of Us    A sucker-punch thought,  we will end.  The assault turns into a cold sweat  from the contours of my couch.    One day we might fight over  the over-due mortgage,  you promised to pay.  The dent in the new hallway’s paint,   I never denied.  Who keeps the dog   when we sell the house?     We fought the morning  a bus crashed into the glass store.  The highway exit was blocked  and first responders’ lights spun.  I read on my phone that no one’s hurt  and we held hands the drive home.  What if we’d decided   to replace the glass in the tv stand  an hour earlier.    The first time I wrote this  you sat next to me on the couch.   TV commentaries must-know insight,  scores on your phone,  notes for a fantasy,  but you…

Continue reading →

November 6, 2019

Novel Excerpt 2: “Kado,” Chapter 10, by Rusty Braziel

Novel Excerpt 2: “Kado,” Chapter 10, by Rusty Braziel

Editor’s Note: This is the second excerpt from Kado, a just-published novel, from which we excerpted the Forward and Chapter 9 yesterday. This exciting adventure novel is available from Amazon in hardcover, Kindle, and Audible formats. The Red River This was the damnedest thing I ever seen. Mon Ami, how did you know? Over the next two weeks, we made our way down the Mississippi River to the mouth of the Red River. The trip was easy and rapid, thanks to the current being in our favor. The workload was light, and the variety of river traffic provided occasional entertainment for those of us who had spent most of our lives staring at fields of corn and cotton. Sometimes we saw keelboats such as ours heading upstream, while other times we overtook a flatboat moving…

Continue reading →

November 5, 2019

Novel Excerpt 1: “Kado,” by Rusty Braziel

Novel Excerpt 1: “Kado,” by Rusty Braziel

Editor’s Note: We’re excited to premier Kado, a new adventure novel, today and tomorrow. Today, the Introduction, Foreword and Chapter 9, followed by Chapter 10 tomorrow. Kado was published today on Amazon and is available as a hardcover, Kindle and Audible book. Get yours here. Introduction It is the early 1800s in the new frontier west of the Mississippi. Eighteen-year-old Tom Murrell could never understand his father’s dreams of carving a new life out of the wilderness. He wanted to do something else with his life besides spend it behind a plow, but with the family moving to the Red River in Arkansaw Territory, he was stuck. Everything changes for Tom when he witnesses the death of Tiatesun, spiritual leader of the Kadohadacho tribe, and is drawn into a raging conflict between the Kado and…

Continue reading →

November 2, 2019

“In Thought, Word and Deed,” by Jose Oseguera

“In Thought, Word and Deed,” by Jose Oseguera

By the time Paul and Ariela reached the Caravaggio exhibit at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, they decided to stop avoiding the urge to hold hands, and finally interlaced fingers. The tingling sensation first came to him when he handed her the red LACMA sticker, she needed to wear in order to be allowed in all the special exhibits. Paul squeezed her hand as if it would fall out of his if he didn’t. She blushed. He smiled, showing more teeth than he’d intended. Paul was born in Mexico, but was adopted as an infant by white evangelical Christian missionaries who decided to bring him home to Rialto, California along with all the goat’s milk candy they could fit in their luggage. Although his parents had tried to instill as much Hispanic culture in him…

Continue reading →

This is your site

Welcome to the Fictional Café! Your baristas are interested in all genres of short fiction, poetry, excerpts from novels-in-progress, your photographs, art, and audio or video podcasts. We encourage you to share your work for publication in the Fictional Café. Click on the Join/Submit button above to learn more.

Archive

Facebook

This message is only visible to admins.
Problem displaying Facebook posts. Backup cache in use.
Click to show error
Error: (#200) Provide valid app ID Type: OAuthException