By Lea Grover I come from a people of wandering, of desert paths swept clean of footprints by thousand year gusts of wind, of vanishing, of villages abandoned as not only my great-grandmothers but I carried what mattered across oceans and borders and the ticking of latitude and longitude beneath tired feet, soles hardened by lifetimes [...]
By R.W.W. Greene Joanne’s television remote hit the wall hard, spawning batteries and bits of plastic that chose their own paths to the floor. She flicked the switch on the power strip that governed the media center and picked up the tarnished hourglass she’d readied before tuning into the ceremony. Four years would likely be [...]
By Mark J. Mitchell I’m guided by the beauty of our weapons. —"First We Take Manhattan" I’m battered by the blindness of our weapons. Boys stare at screens and tickle switches. Death drops from the sky onto archaic altars. Isaac screams. Ishmael burns. Rachel weeps for her children. From the empty office, ritual words: [...]
By Dianne Olsen Her name is the color of bright yellow sunflowers, the scent of dusky sage. Her intense black hair absorbs the sun. She stands close, her hand clutching mine, Flora, my mother, my friend, my accompaniment to life. I am a bubble of laughter from her lips a note of joy tossed in the [...]
