Thoughts from the Editor
~ Kate Lydon
Book Excerpt: Memoir
from Brian Hudson's story of a working class British lad,
'Whe' Yu' From?'
Here on the southern fringe of greater London, I was to
experience war, with the sirens and air-raids, the blackout and
shortages. We lived in the path of the German bombers headed for London
and close to Biggin Hill, one of the most famous of the British fighter
aircraft bases that sent up Spitfires and Hurricanes to intercept the
enemy planes. With my father a soldier serving overseas, my mother faced
war on the home front alone with me, her infant son.
Stories: Creative Nonfiction
Home (Wr) Ec
~ Sandy Lichtenstein
I’m waiting for the plumber to come.
Your sink is still clogged?
No, he fixed that a few weeks ago. It’s the toilet.
Don’t you have a plunger?
I’m queen of the plungers, but this is different.
Looking for Many Mansions on the Moon
~ Barbara Fryrear
Mary Ellen told
me about sending Walter out in a storm for the doctor when she went
into labor with one of them. “As soon as I heard the screen door slam,”
she said, “I tried to call him back. I got into the bed I’d prepared
and spent the rest of the time till the baby came trying to untie the
laces on my high-top shoes. The doctor came in time to cut the cord.”
Birds of a Feather
~ Katie Rose Convery
Across the school
yard I saw her, a sloe-eyed stranger with yards of patent-leather-black
hair touching to the waistband of her dove grey uniform and
ruler-straight bangs framing a rosy-cheeked roundy-face. I slyly
sauntered closer, shyly circling until she noticed me.
Iguanas I Have Known
~ Joan Anderson
I could see the
iguana through the open doorway, and found myself compelled to stare at
him. He started making strange movements, so I quickly looked away.
An Abundance of Roses
~ Jackie Kearins
“Why is Achilles nodding his head up and down?” I asked.
I ordered silk
flowers and a large vase and made a huge arrangement of pink, red and
white roses for her. Seventy in all, plus one to grow on… When I spoke
to her on her birthday, she had received them and was very pleased. I
know this because she said, “There are a shit load of roses in this
vase! Christ, I’m old!”
Riding the Waves
~ Mary Porth
I always enjoy the
odd occasions when my family stays at hotels. We never rent more than
one room, so at different times over the years we’ve had both double
beds filled, chairs pushed together, and the odd port-a-crib or sleeping
bag set up on the floor. . . . Usually, when we’re all tucked in,
I smile and take a satisfied inventory of sleeping bodies. It’s
comforting having everyone within arm’s reach. I’m like a mother duck
counting her ducklings or a border collie rounding up her sheep.
That sense of security and control is a mirage though.
Book Excerpt: Fiction
Morning in Glamorgan: a preview of the comic murder mystery
~ Kate Lydon
Mother had always said, you may marry a good
man, but your only true love is a cad. Mother's cad had been a Mr. Dwyer, who
had always brought Lucy butterscotch candy and told her to go play while he and
Mother visited, but that had been ages ago when she was a child. Lucy had never
had a cad of her very own.
Short Story: Fiction
A Quiet Naked Sunday
~ Virginia Strong Newlin
David made some
other objections which just meant he was scared. So was I, of course,
but somehow I thought I should overcome that, that it was important to
go to the nude beach now that I’d decided to, and I told David not to
worry, we would wear bathing suits
So okay then, David said. I’m game if you are.
Notes on the Poetry of Kay Ryan
Poet Laureate 2009-2010, and winner of the Pulitzer Prize for poetry
2011, has been acknowledged as one of the greats in American poetry, yet
her first published work was only made possible by the gifts of
friends. Since then she has published seven books of poetry, most
recently the one that won her the Pulitzer Prize, The Best of It: New and Selected Poems.
A Review of Diane Ackerman's One Hundred Names for Love
led a rich and tumultuous life, filled with travel, adventure,
learning, and most of all – language. Their world changed, suddenly and
catastrophically, when Paul suffered a massive stroke. . . .
Harris Cohen: 3 Poems
A Reverie, a prose poem
The Walk, a poem
Joe Quinton: 4 Poems
an untitled poem
Dori Hoch: a Poem