Yet I Try

/

…wife croons softly, a song of light from our past

as I play make belief tea party with my daughters.

The elder one had to call me from my work desk twice

before I shut down my laptop. The little one laughs

that uninhibited laugh that us adults lost

a long time ago. The elder one looks

happy as she pours imaginary tea from her little

white pot into the miniature plastic cups, blue,

yellow and blue, that she has arranged in front

of the three players. A couple of minutes ago

I was recording them speak, sing and…

By Rajnish Mishra

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Would You Like to Place an Order Now?

/

…sincerely hoped he was the last to arrive for the big occasion. He entered through the unguarded stadium door and quickly mixed into the bustling throng of people on the arena floor. He scanned the crowd and estimated it numbered close to a thousand or more. All wore shirts and hats for and against various peoples and parties. Literally everyone held signs and banners that screamed the name of their fearless leader, President Lügner (Lug) Widerlich.

Quint worked his way to a point near the front of the stage where a group of burly men stood to keep the exuberant…

By Alex Starke


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The Last Stockade

/

…walls are stripped bare, the cubicles emptied. No more potted plants or flowers, pictures of loved ones, or construction paper devotionals from children. Sharon is mildly surprised that the lights are still on. She has holed up in the 4th floor accounting department waiting for the end.

The entire corporate structure of NCADS had been moved to Cedar Rapids, Iowa. Iowa, for God’s sake. But Sharon isn’t going. She hasn’t eaten anything since they took out the vending machines, but the faucets in the bathrooms still work. She shakes her stainless steel water bottle as if it’s a tribal gourd…

By Matthew C. McLean

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The Golden Goblet

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…your weary body

Drink from my golden goblet

The most delicate and finest of wines

A potion of wild raspberries, bitterness and jeering contempt

Assault the light that dare not shine

It is the elixir of a dispassionate heart

If you possess no fear

Taste the confectionery of sadness call

Where love frightened evades approach

Upon remembrance of the long dark fall

Sip from the golden goblet

Taste the cruel sweetness of pain

Damnation to those who denounce the motive behind the actions

Until the bed of anguish you have lain

But these rare wines have no equal in…

By Tammy M Darby


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On the Moon

/

…want the moon? I’ll give you the moon! Anything. Name it. It’s yours.”

I watched his beautiful lips move as he spoke in earnest. He was serious, of course. He always was.

“You stole that from a movie.” I sighed and cocked my head to the side, staring at him like a loyal Labrador.

“I’m serious,” He insisted, resting his hands on my shoulders and shifting me so that he could look me in the eyes.

This of course meant I had to tilt my head back and rock on the balls of my feet to look him in the…

By L.E.

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A Day to Remember

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…busy day but I had managed to get Mom and Dad to let me go outside and play for a couple hours before the wedding. As long as I promised to come straight home and get ready. I was to be on my best behaviour and under no circumstances was I to pick on Ginny today. It was a big day for her. I didn't really care about Ginny's big day. So what she was getting married. People got married everyday! But I agreed to their demands and spent my free time playing baseball with the guys at the empty…

By Leah Pryor

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An Admirer's Lament

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…been of the opinion that love can be restricted to that between two people of the opposite sex. Rather, it can embrace love of all kinds and all who consent to involve themselves with the practice. Even if, as can often be the circumstances, the love goes one way alone.

The often misunderstood culture known as “fandom” has always been a kind of love of the first order. People who are willing and able to involve themselves with fictional worlds and people to the degree that they appear, to them, to be tantalizingly real, and much more enjoyable, in a…

By David Perlmutter

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Aberdeen

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…older man from Scotland drank a pint of whiskey; neat.

And wandering off the known path home, was swallowed by the peat.

The earthy taste of scotch now on his tongue forever more

His spirit haunts the pubs about as ghostly local lore.


The simple-minded townsfolk swear they’d felt his presence still

When, after dark, inside their hearts they’d feel an icy chill.

A drenched and musty smelling form appeared with reaching hand

To clutch at souls of sinners who might dwell within this land.

To venture out at night upon the streets of Aberdeen

Your mind should not be…

By James Geehring


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Wishing Well

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…the bottom of the wishing well,

Were all the things I remembered.

The whimsical stories you asked me to tell,

And all of the things you never heard.

At the bottom of the wishing well,

Your words are but a memory;

Of all the bullshit you tried to sell.

What I bought was misery.

At the bottom of the wishing well,

Is where I cast the stone;

To a place where learned lessons dwell,

And the memory of you is only…

By Jessica Doland

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The Last Weekend with Our Storyteller

/

…I was little, my brother and I loved to visit an old man on the mountain, kilometers away from our village. He lived on his own. In a hut, which admittedly, I was obsessed with: old man had built it with twigs between bamboos and embroidered it with eternal soul— so immortal it never gone for a Burton. A skill that was rather incongruous to how the Rwandan villagers built their huts; so impeccable that from a distance, it seemed to be plastered together in harmony with his personality. Old man had a gentle demeanour, and he must have borrowed…

By Tshepo S. Molebatsi

Facebook URL: https://web.facebook.com/molebatsisilas

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