Dignity, Beauty and Hope sang.
But when I woke they shattered
Like crystal mosaics of church saints.

Soon, like a trumpet, the sun
Began the chorus of sparrows
And the shouts of flowers.

As he leaned in, his rifle clattered against the floor of the canoe. Crystal reached for it, a motion Bobby interpreted as consent or surrender. He pressed his lips to hers, his tongue poked out and searched for an opening. Crystal could barely feel it. She felt like she was drifting under the tow of a heavy tide, submerged as the waves hissed over her head.

Grace Elizabeth Butler is an author located in the Tampa Bay region of Florida. She has previously had […]

Matthew Harder lives in Vermont, where he works as an accountant and spends his free time reading and […]

My plan is to enchant the moon with a fabulous

array of art. I can’t imagine viewing a masterpiece

without feeling a singular buzz. That’s my edge.

Cliff Saunders has an MFA in Creative Writing from The University of Arizona. His poems have appeared recently […]

Kushal Poddar, born and brought up in the British colonial city – Kolkata, chose English over his mother […]

I’ve decided something: My friends are weird. Who does something like that at a bar?  I always thought after you had a kid, you would be extra proper. No joking. No laughing. No, doing crazy stuff like crawling under a table to get away from being squished into a corner by your two friends. Or, for that matter—standing on a booth seat flapping your arms trying to get a person’s attention.

Penelope S. Hawtrey lives in Ottawa, Canada where she can be found at home buried beneath mountains of […]

Dressing a rock and roll chick for burial meant selecting ebony boots, slim black jeans, a silvery button down blouse, and a green beaded bracelet. I hoped she would approve of my fashion choices. I also hoped she would forgive me for not returning to the apartment and taking more of her personal possessions. She was not ready to part with them, as she was not ready to leave this life.