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Just Because I Am Quiet

Ipsita Banerjee·January 30, 2017

Just because I am quiet written by: Ipsita Banerjee @ipsyb My father was forged with fire, if...

Poetry English Featured Post

·1 min read

Feminist Point: Only Women Apologise For Not Sparkling

J.Ahlberg·December 7, 2016

Feminist point: only women apologise for not sparkling written by: J.Ahlberg @anothermadidea You are not morally obliged...

English

·1 min read

Last Mujeres de Puente Blanco at Spillwords.com

Las Mujeres De Puente Blanco

Jose A Gomez·October 25, 2016

Las Mujeres de Puente Blanco A Short Story by José A. Gómez Esta leyenda urbana siempre a sido ...

Jose A Gomez Spanish Literature

·5 mins read

Butter Half

Elisa Prell·June 27, 2016

Butter Half written by: Elisa Prell @inspireshot One day bread met butter All he could do was...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Just

Rakind Kaur·May 20, 2016

Just written by: Rakind Kaur @khwabgah Often I hear her utter the words ‘I am just…’ just...

English

·1 min read

A Play of 3

Anne G·April 11, 2016

A Play of 3 a poem by Anne G Step up to see a play of three...

Words Of Seduction Poetry 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 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

Dwell

Such Soulful Wailings

Inspiring Tale of Dr. Jane Goodall

Of Rice and Women

Protest

In The Company of Southern Women

Darwin Rules

women

Just Because I Am Quiet

Feminist Point: Only Women Apologise For Not Sparkling

Las Mujeres De Puente Blanco

Butter Half

Just

A Play of 3

Santa’s Dead!

The Mouse on the Hearth

The Gift of Snowflakes

The Angel Lady

The Yule Siege

The War Within The Battle

Such Soulful Wailings

In Answer to Your Question

The Ex-Checker of the Disconsolate

Past Tense

A Horse Stood on a Drop of Rain

Monster