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Mourning…

David R Mellor·May 29, 2022

Mourning… written by: David R Mellor I wake up to coffee My failing eye sight Classical music...

Poetry English

·1 min read

Sensations

Iolanda Leotta·September 1, 2021

Sensations written by: Iolanda Leotta @dottoressaJole Wake up from sleep my soul! don’t you feel the “Zephyr”...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Not So Pearly Gates

Lynsey Fyfe·June 20, 2021

Not So Pearly Gates written by: Lynsey Fyfe @lillypops87 I looked around an old dingy office, the...

Literature English

·3 mins read

I Learned To Knock That Day

Alan Simpson·May 1, 2021

I Learned To Knock That Day written by: Alan Simpson @theycallmetater Many nights I went to bed...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Covid Spring

Denise D'Souza·February 3, 2021

Covid Spring written by: Denise D’Souza The world slowly wakes from lonely hibernation; Takes fresh breaths of...

Poetry English

·1 min read

Cravings

Azumee·November 21, 2020

Cravings written by: Azumee I miss the taste of wine, Cakes with cherries on top. I miss the...

Poetry 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

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

Still Standing Tall

Every Day, at Five A.M.

Cracks of Marble

Through Tinted Glasses

Crisp Air Haiku

Marvelous Deception

Fly Fishing

Islands of Isolation

wake up

Mourning…

Sensations

Not So Pearly Gates

I Learned To Knock That Day

Covid Spring

Cravings

Bonfire of Resolve

Mercury

Cast Off

A Little Book About Trees – by Tim Burr

Still Standing Tall

SHIMLA

Interview Q&A With Jim Bartlett

The Devil Calls

The Mirror Did Not Come as Glass

My Forest

Artificial Idiocracy

Walk Away Walk Away