The Memory Box
In our living room, a box sits atop a record player, with a black and white photo placed upon the box. All three items act as a tabletop for collected dust…
Writer’s Choice
Delete.
“You need to choose which memories you want to delete,” the doctor said as she clasped her hands behind her head and tried to appear calm and confident…
An Uncaged Bird
A chick on a board. Rise, drop, hot wheels singin’, the wind in her hair. Ready for Scarecrow man – break on your board, slide under his skinny arm.
Sheets
Jane raced around her apartment leaving chaos in her wake. She was like a whirling dervish of manic energy. She always worked herself into a state…
Dreamers Magazine Issue 5
I’m pleased to announce the release of Issue 5 of the Dreamers Magazine. In this issue you’ll find…
Eliminating Rahiem
I have already decided: Today is the day I will kill my mother’s boyfriend. Mama’s loaded shotgun has been leaning against her old dresser…
STILL
and every day my mother, who is every day a mother, looks down defeated by her hands the hands that are her mother’s hands the gnarled strega nonna branches
Atlas
The Narrator’s cane taps an uneven rhythm against ancient stone tiles as he hobbles through the library. There is almost no light to see by, but this does not slow his pace.
In the Cypress Hills
Clouds under stars, and the stars move superior to the clouds. I open my eyes to the sound of horses, peer up from a slit in my blankets.