by Lisa Reily she didn’t know that her family was only held togetherby an old plastic Christmas tree,her mother’s pierogies,and homemade lemon cheesecake. she had always planned to make her mother’s food,but only ever watched her cook;now her hands were lost without a recipe. she didn’t know her father had never understoodwhy her mother had left him, even though he’d Read More
Tag: jan 20 2020
Explainable Earthquakes
by Tammy L. Breitweiser The fancy folding chairs are arranged in soldier rows facing the front. A movie theater of grief; only one showing. All sounds are muffled like there are bunnies lining the walls. Low music plays distinctive to a funeral home. You never hear it anywhere else. To describe it becomes impossible and lives in the same fog Read More
Our Celestial Dance
by Karen Walker Moonrise as he turns in the driveway. The old Chevy’s headlights scan the bedroom wall, a lunar landscape scarred by everyone who’s rented this shabby place. Down the hallway, the bathroom nightlight is a weak little star. It fades as he closes the door—damn toilet will run on and on—and then reappears as if clouds passed by. Read More
Visitation
by Tiffany Belieu Rainfall of tires on asphalt. Subconsciously,a count begins, un-mourned graveson the side of the highway. Guts the consequence of quickness.Creatures who leapwithout looking, spindly leg blown glass fragile, mar the pristinemourning gown of our drive time.Tragedy is an unfolded map in lap en route to an open casket.Lilies, a dozen ghost brides trumpetingmournfully from the backseat. In Read More
Winter Olympics
by Ashly Curtis My best friend and I ice skated on the kitchen floor,twirling off wooden chairs, gliding across tilein our pink ruffled socks. Salchows, Lutzes, evena rare triple axel or two. It was 1998. Olympic season.We held up handmade signs in the living room,blocky marker letters cheering on the figure skaters;Tara Lipinski etching beauty with her blades, carvingballerina. My Read More