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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

2nd Best Art

Laurie L Byro·July 16, 2021

2nd Best Art written by: Laurie L Byro (Truce Zeus: Pandora Speaks Out of the Box after...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Wanderlust

Madhu Gangopadhyay·June 12, 2021

Wanderlust written by: Madhu Gangopadhyay I wish to fly in the sky like Helios: Have a glimpse...

English Poetry

·1 min read

Polyhymnia

Fotoula Reynolds·February 11, 2020

Polyhymnia written by: Fotoula Reynolds An inspirational goddess Who did not appear to be modest? Of Greek...

Poetry English

·1 min read

FLIGHT MADE FLUID

Steven Fortune·October 30, 2019

FLIGHT MADE FLUID written by: Steven Fortune Flattered art unscrews tight congealings of days shunned by the...

Poetry English

·1 min read

Memories of Paris

Sonali Majumdar·April 7, 2019

Memories of Paris written by: Sonali Majumdar Paris calls me often. An embellished city, Bedazzles my brain....

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

Ghost of a Christmas Past

The Spy Hiding in the Bougainvillea

Cieder Muld and the Boy

Interviews

Spotlight On Writers – Miroslava Panayotova

Interview Q&A With Jim Bartlett

Spotlight On Writers – Darryl B

The Spy Hiding in the Bougainvillea

The Bell

A New Nose for Rudolph

The Garden of Hesperides

Renaissance Unfair

Angry Gods

Arges, Son of The Sky

Satan. What’s In A Word?

Zeus

Sensations

2nd Best Art

Wanderlust

Polyhymnia

FLIGHT MADE FLUID

Memories of Paris

The Mirror Did Not Come as Glass

Broken Halo Blues

Interview Q&A With Jim Bartlett

Cieder Muld and the Boy

The Leaves of Diablo

Creatures of Habit

Ghost of a Christmas Past

Christmas Hymn

Sounds of the Season

Christmas Baking

The Great Christmas Eve Bakery Heist