Scent of A Man
written by: E Barnes
She stood behind me in the grocery store. Some guy in front of me had a problem and the cashier had to turn on t...
The Caregiver
written by: Pamela R Winnick
Liz heard a howl from upstairs. Startled, she dropped her coffee mug. She thought of sweeping the ceramic...
Prisoner Five Eight
written by: John Lane
With most business on lockdown, more and more stringent rules to enter the few open ones remaining and the...
Apples and Oranges
written by: Jim Bartlett
Old habits die hard. The saying sticks in my gullet as I stare down the fence at the last of the new str...
On A Tired Housewife
a poem by: Anonymous
Here lies a poor woman who was always tired,
She lived in a house where help wasn't hired:
Her last words ...
My Powerstation Wife
written by: David M. Donachie
When the Mayor first suggested using my wife as power station for the town, it seemed like a sens...
Two Bedrooms Out The Back
written by: Peter Farrar
It was the smell I noticed. It arrived before the seismic wave of sheer heat. It caked in my nost...
