The Abstract Art Gallery
A writing gallery created by writers from around the world. From poetry to song lyrics, from essays to entire novels and short stories.
A fictional narrative of historical events that occured in the nineteenth century United States of America during the subjucation of the native population.
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…three years absent, I have returned to the Oklahoma Indian Reservation to be with my people, to die with them, as I have lived, loved and suffered with them. It is the winter of…
By John O'Donovan
Read MoreMy story is about a pilot stranded alone in the frozen Mongolian tundra
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…gonna die. My plane is on fire and I’m about to crash into the frozen Mongolian
tundra. I look for somewhere to put my one-engine plane down. There’s a small patch…
By Brad Kollus
Read MoreMany rural high schoolers are dying to move away after…
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…acks a bridge, and holds very little land. There’s no town square, no village hall with signs and lights that say hey-we’re-an-inviting-town-downright-bursting-with-tourism-potential. Yet, very few young people want to leave. College plans are cancelled. Instead graduates favor quick marriages, and children. Lots of lots of…
By Steven Roisum
Read MoreIt is a plea for a transformation in the present condition many mothers are facing at retirement homes…
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…day you came in
The world my dear
The Heavens…
By Dipesh Kumar Bhagat
Read MoreA young man looks for an apartment
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…I found myself having to look for an apartment. I just graduated from college and living with my parents has been okay but leaves a lot to be desired. It's cryptic for sex life. There is nothing…
By Donte-highwater
Read More…greets the morning
Motes of dust settling in shafts of sunlight
Streaming through the…
By Mike Turner
Read MoreInspired by a small, roped-off and protected stand of sea oats
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…the tides the sea oats stand,
frail fossils of a quiet day.
In guarded dunes and evening…
By Jonathan Dyer
Read More…used to be a green pond once next to our house. This house had a red tiled roof and picture windows. It was situated on a hill known as the Dev Pahar in Chittagong. Through those picture windows, I could see the pond down by the valley. The pond was not too far. From the hilltop, it looked mostly surrounded by heavy moss growing on tall trees and bamboo…
By Mehreen Ahmed
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