THE LATEST ISSUES
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THE DAY BECKONS ME When the stones relent and their disfigurement of the flesh on my back ceases, Though the brown of my hair continues to meander through their beloved clover. When the scuttle of wings and barbed legs no longer draws skin taut against my bones, And my nose runs as dry as my…
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Patrick Dudley sensed her stare before his rowboat reached the shore. The hairs on the back of his sunburnt neck stood stiffer than the paddle in his hands, in a jolt that spread as far as the toes he hadn’t felt in weeks. Painedly, he swallowed the sour taste in his mouth and – when…
Midnight Remarks 