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Welcome Home

Kelli J Gavin·September 15, 2018

Welcome Home written by: Kelli J Gavin @KelliJGavin You got up to leave I sat down to...

English Poetry

·1 min read

And This Is Life

Beth Tremaglio·September 11, 2018

And This Is Life written by: Beth Tremaglio @TremaglioBeth The youth will wish for age, the aged...

English Beth Tremaglio Poetry

·1 min read

My Baby Has No Name

Rob Batista·December 26, 2017

My Baby Has No Name written by: Rob Batista @authorrbatista I am eighteen years old, so young...

English Literature

·8 mins read

The Dandelion

hedgehog·October 11, 2017

The Dandelion written by: hedgehog Hopes and dreams Hopes and dreams Dry pale and windswept My place...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Up And Down

Aaron McMillan·October 17, 2016

Up and Down written by: Aaron McMillan Sinking away out of sight, I’m not in control, Every...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Down Comes The Rain

Angel_Face44·July 24, 2016

Down Comes The Rain written by: AngelFace44 @AngelFace4459 From dark skies fall a misty rain. In the breeze...

English

·1 min read

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After a long career tinkering in telecommunications, Jim Bartlett switched to tinkering with writing fiction, both requiring a stretch of the imagination. In the course of putting his fingers to the keyboard, he's been fortunate to have quite a number of his stories featured both in print and online in several wonderful publications, including a story selected for "The Best of Fiction on the Web, 1996 – 2017" anthology. While mentally he strolls along a warm California beach with his wife and golden retriever (shhh, she doesn't know she's a dog), physically they reside on a special little island in the Pacific Northwest.

Reaper by Sharon Frame Gay

As an orphaned son of an orphan, I always see the glass as half empty. I picture the water murky and lukewarm, a waterline etched below the rim. Maybe with an ash or two floating at the bottom, because that’s what I do for a living. I deal with ashes. The remains of the deceased. No matter how those who pass away see their glass, meager or full, they eventually end up in a satchel carried on my shoulder.
My business card reads “Morton Stark Transport.” I’m called upon to disperse the ashes of the dearly departed and honor their final wishes. People hire me to escort the remains throughout the world ...

Features

The War Within The Battle

Callisto

The Mouse on the Hearth

Interviews

Spotlight On Writers – Vaishnavi Pusapati

Spotlight On Writers – Dmitriy Belyanin

Spotlight On Writers – Miroslava Panayotova

The War Within The Battle

Callisto

The Former

Flow of Life

Seasons

Three Men Came To The Dance

Mommy, Make It Stop!

I Bled, Yet I Still Grasped the Flame

cycle

Welcome Home

And This Is Life

My Baby Has No Name

The Dandelion

Up And Down

Down Comes The Rain

Up In The Sky

Santa’s Dead!

The Mouse on the Hearth

The Gift of Snowflakes

The Angel Lady

The Yule Siege

The War Within The Battle

Rapturous Roundness

Dwell

Do Widzenia

December Transformation

Clown in The Moon