The Question of the Soul ~ Katharine Coles

  Birdsong.  Oboe’s Breath.  Wind in the eaves, voice Of the sparrow someone says Is five notes I can’t count.  Does The mind breathe or My lungs.  Throb or Heart, awash.  Electric, Stricken, it casts Itself at the air.  Beats And will not Fly.  Wherever might It go?  Dreaming mind caught Again in the leaves. […]

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The Man in the Blue House ~ Thom Caraway

  He walks the alley, hammer in hand, and taps nails back into fences. Sometimes he is Dmitri, sometimes Anton. Other times, he doesn’t know. He scavenges pallets for the man across the alley, rebuilds them and piles them in the bed of a pickup. He yells, accuses no one, You can’t hide! His screams […]

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November Surprise ~ John Morgan

                                      Fairbanks, Alaska   Ten below and ice-mist on the river when “Oh,” she says, “a butterfly!” as it comes wobbling from the sun-room, settles on the floor. We offer sugar water in a spoon and watch its sucking tube unroll. It sips, then flutters to the windowsill and folds its scalloped wings against […]

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The New CPR ~ Joanne M. Clarkson

  We no longer breathe for each other.  No longer need that anonymous lip lock that for years spelled salvation.  Strangers walked away from possible mouth-to-mouth contagion and besides, scientists say, there is enough oxygen stored in the bloodstream to keep flesh alive if we just compress.  A hundred beats a minute.  Like struggling uphill […]

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A Gift of Parts ~ Michael Pearce

  I think of the things he doesn’t know, not yet, in his eight years. The feel of a chisel against oak, the smell of sage in Rivas Canyon, a winning jump shot, a love run dry, a laugh that loses its way. Surely the battering of years has shown me that I’m still just […]

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Heirloom ~ Chad Hanson

His Persian family keeps artifacts. His favorite rests on a bookshelf in the living room. A clear vase. After the death of his aunt, he notices that it’s holding water. He asks, “Who filled the vase?” His uncle says, “That’s not a vase, nephew. That is a tear catcher.” Midnight passes. He cannot sleep. An […]

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Modus Operandi #6 ~ Theresa D. Smith

  The reason I blacked out on the Eiffel Tower is not vertigo. Though I have that. No, I was weighing the risks, whom they would call if I did it, what number of children on the ground below. Whether they might stop me before I vaulted the fence. But it looked easy. It might […]

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