confrontation Archives

Blonde Noir

DC DiamondopolousSeptember 19, 2019

Blonde Noir written by: DC Diamondopolous Kit Covington sat on the sofa in her Pacific Palisades mansion with a cigarette lodged in the side of her ...

EnglishLiterature21 min read

Dinner With Your Demons

Godfrey HolyMarch 26, 2019

Dinner With Your Demons written by: Godfrey Holy My skeleton dances to jingles and dirges Other rhymes get lost in my frayed flesh. And the mechan...

EnglishFeatured PostPoetry0 min read

STORM IN A TEACUP

Dilip MohapatraSeptember 21, 2018

STORM IN A TEACUP written by: Dilip Mohapatra @dilipmo The curves of your luscious lips leave their pink imprints on the white porcelain and ...

EnglishPoetry0 min read

Ties That Bind Me

David VaughanOctober 5, 2016

Ties That Bind Me written by: David Vaughan @raistlinrev It's commonly thought that I enjoy strife. Maybe I hold myself in healthy regard. Enlightenm...

English0 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 ...