• Featured Stories and Poems

  • They sat in the open-air section of Café DuMonde enjoying a light breakfast and watching the people. Their conversation wandered. Just outside on the sidewalk, an attractive middle-aged Hispanic woman was dancing by herself while her older companion was taking a cell-phone video. Her conservative casual top, her “mom jeans,” and her short ponytail contrasted with her movements as she rolled her hips like a Latin dancing girl. She was having a good, easy time. 
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  • I arrived at the A&P warehouse parking lot with a killer hangover and a limp. I had somehow hurt my leg, probably in a fight. The events of the night before were jumbled in my mind, like a troubled dream. After parking my pickup, I walked to the men standing in a circle around the body. They pointedly looked away from the pool of blood around Otho Harris’ head and talked quietly. Otho had on the same clothes as the day before, a threadbare flannel plaid shirt, faded jeans and scuffed work boots. It was not unusual for him to wear the same clothes for several days.
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  • Jake Foster felt untethered, and not in a good way.When Arlene had said she was leaving him, relief was his strongest emotion. Now, after three years, he spent his time drinking to ease his panic about the future. Most of the time he liked his solitude. Now and then feelings of loneliness would overtake him. His career was hardly worthy of the name. He often thought of Thoreau’s line about most men leading “lives of quiet desperation,” although Thoreau was talking about modern society and not divorced burnouts in particular.
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  • People chosen for the role

    Projections of our sin

    Well intentioned lies are told

    And yet we know within
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