Auschwitz Archives - Spillwords

The Farm

John BaverstockMay 30, 2019

The Farm written by: JOHN BAVERSTOCK The Pigs they squealed, Not one emotion did they show or feel, A train was pulling in more lost souls were ge...

EnglishFeatured PostPoetry1 min read

The Scent of Spring

Tim GardinerFebruary 24, 2018

The Scent of Spring written by: Tim Gardiner @timgardiner3 apple blossom - children play outside the little red house...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Reverberating Echos

Anne GJanuary 27, 2018

Reverberating Echos written by: Anne G @TheInkTruth Through invasion and appropriation of Poland's lands the Nazi machine would create a human wareho...

Anne GArticleSpilled History1 min read

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Phyllis P. Colucci is a freelance/indie author from Brooklyn, New York. She is currently retired from a Supervisory Administrative position with a Federal law enforcement agency in New York City, and is now pursuing her passion for writing fiction and poetry. She has always had a love for writing over the years, whether it be poetry, short stories or novels; and mystery and suspense is something she has recently gravitated towards with a touch of romance and that "New York edge". Phyllis has three novels, one novella and an Anthology of original poems currently on the Amazon market, and continues to be part of the Spillwords writing community by sharing/contributing her fiction and poetry on a monthly basis. She also has a writing blog under the name of "FictionTarot" where she hopes to entertain readers, take them on journeys page by page - and perhaps make a difference with a blog.

Bodies In The Basement by M. Taggart

It was a crisp, damp, October night.
“When we get to the Church I’ll go down first.” Colin was thinking of the moment when both he and Aaron would be standing at the top of the basement stairs peering down into the darkness.
The old stone Church was perched at the top of the largest hill on the prep school’s campus. Colin’s parents were professors at the school and their house was on campus grounds. They’d been waiting for Colin’s parents to fall asleep upstairs. Both boys were comfortable in their sleeping bags on the screened in porch. The lights had been turned out an hour ago and Colin felt it was time to slip into the night ...