Fiction
Poetry
Lascaux is Burning
The first art Was not art, Rather, a color line shot through the dark, No more expression Than a plea for explanation. The grandest monuments
Lucy Holden
Poetry
Antagonistic Environment
he swears that the desert is laughing, mocking him with the distant wail of the wind, the hoot of an owl. each spray of dry
Rachel Linton
Memoirs
Outwitting Mom’s Cable Company
The day after my mother’s funeral I called Comcast to cancel her cable TV account. A recorded message led me through a series of
Thomas Sullivan
LIT
Their Heads Came Falling Down
“I’m afraid your head will fall off,” Esme said. “What silly nonsense,” her friend replied. “No, this is serious,” Esme pushed. “I remember it happened
Z Zoccolante
Poetry
What is tomorrow?
Tomorrow is that glint in your best friends’ eye, When he proposes a daring plan. Tomorrow is that rainbow glinting in the sky, Reminding you
Emma Callbeck