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Origins of Life

Leanne Howard Kenney·November 11, 2017

Origins of Life written by: Leanne Howard Kenney @neeneebucket STROKE BE LIKE seeing stars Bright as Night...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Stairway to Heaven

Luiz Syphre·November 7, 2017

Stairway to Heaven written by: Luiz Syphre @poetandkids And so I run! I take one stride after...

English Literature

·7 mins read

Try written by The Jade Den at Spillwords.com

Try

The Jade Den·October 25, 2017

Try written by: The Jade Den I fell awoken That’s a lie, but hey, I tried. And...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Have A Good One

Dan Leicht·September 2, 2017

Have A Good One written by: Dan Leicht @Deeliopunk Up at 5am, key in the ignition by...

English Featured Post Poetry

·1 min read

Pearls

ErosVerse·August 4, 2016

Pearls written by: ErosVerse @ErosVerse The pearls of experience are Every colour Every shape Every size Ageless...

English Poetry

·1 min read

spillwords.com Trancendence or Coincidence by Anne G

Transcendence or Coincidence

Anne G·March 6, 2016

Transcendence or Coincidence written by: Anne G Trails of breadcrumbs left behind bits and pieces Evidence Trails...

Anne G English Poetry

·1 min read

Today I Am

Anne G·January 29, 2015

Today I Am written by: Anne G @TheInkTruth This day, today, if some what gray, I heard...

Anne G 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 Light We Keep

The Great Christmas Caper

This is Our Christmas

Interviews

Spotlight On Writers – Miroslava Panayotova

Interview Q&A With Jim Bartlett

Spotlight On Writers – Darryl B

The Great Christmas Caper

It’s You

Hopeless?

Refugees

Mirage: Optical Illusion

Home

The Memory of Love

Vertigo

experience

Origins of Life

Stairway to Heaven

Try

Have A Good One

Pearls

Transcendence or Coincidence

Today I Am

Cieder Muld and the Boy

Ghost of a Christmas Past

The Leaves of Diablo

This is Our Christmas

The Spy Hiding in the Bougainvillea

The Post of Christmas Past

The Light We Keep

The White Robe of Noelle

St. Nicholas Goes to His Eternal Reward

A Cardboard Christmas

The Innkeeper’s Wife

The Icicle