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Failing Parachutes

Ana Denysenko·August 23, 2021

Failing Parachutes The Fall of Kabul written by: Ana Denysenko They sit shoulder to shoulder to shoulder,...

Poetry English

·1 min read

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

Interview Q&A With Jim Bartlett

Cast Off

Mercury

Interviews

Interview Q&A With Jim Bartlett

Spotlight On Writers – Darryl B

Spotlight On Writers – Maliya Denise Wilmore

Interview Q&A With Jim Bartlett

The Mirror Did Not Come as Glass

The Devil Calls

Dusk in the Valley of Shadows

Fatima

Dispensing Freedom

The Persian Thief

They Shoot Poets, Don’t They?

Taliban

Failing Parachutes

Bonfire of Resolve

Mercury

Still Standing Tall

Cast Off

A Little Book About Trees – by Tim Burr

Every Day, at Five A.M.

You’ll Be Fine

Interview Q&A With Jim Bartlett

The Devil Calls

The Mirror Did Not Come as Glass

My Forest

Artificial Idiocracy