Fiction
Poetry
Treading The Fire
maybe beauty will remain an abstract dirge; a mantra to be ruminated over like a submerged leek becoming tender in warm water. as it seems
Dr. Ernest Williamson III
Poetry
The God in the Attic
In our attic, among things, as it seems of past lives, lives a bitter God. When guests come to our house, we don’t mention him.
Ernad Osmic
Fiction
Persistence, Memory, Time
Have you ever met someone who makes you question everything you’ve ever wanted?
Kelly Dasta
Fiction
Fragmented Silence, Fragmented Sound
How do you photograph silence? Is it represented by an empty room? A sleeping baby? A seascape?
Constance L. Lieber
