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Waning Time by Suzanne Cottrell
Fine grains of white sandflow silently from one hourglass globe to the other. Each grain, an increment of time,a new beginning, an end,a life, a death. Marks the passage of timewithout interruption,the inevitabilityof a life cycle. One globe empties, void of life,as one fills with grainsof sand, a mound oflife experiences. ____________________________________________________________ Suzanne Cottrell lives…
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Doing Time, Part 2 by Craig Rodgers
4. A hum begins, white noise smoothing away the vestiges of an already waning dream. The hum becomes a grating vibration as somewhere nearby machinery shifts into active gear. Mower. Gray breathes in and rises from sleep. Noise swells and recedes but never ceases. Arms stretch and legs touch floor as he sits up amid…
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Table of Contents: Issue 5
Letter from the Editor time stays.we go.Helena Pantsis thisis(not)thewayidieHelena Pantsis Negative EntropyRobert Perron Refugee ChildrenMori Glaser Kabuki LessonsDavid Lohrey How to Bind a Lover, or the Lingering Aubade of Lear AldrichKayla King Ripe with PromiseKaren Pierce Gonzalez A Nighttime MeditationDah The Shadows at NightJoshua Ian The Myth of Ophephone and…
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One Hundred Years of Dreaming by Chris Collins
The Old Woman’s Advice Calpurnia woke up screaming. Breathless, she gasped into consciousness, her panicked bosom heaving until the Oneiroi demon dislodged and shuffled off with a sneer. Clutching her husband’s arm as he rose, she told him of her dream and begged him – do not leave. And, laughing,…
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How to Bind a Lover, or the Lingering Aubade of Lear Aldrich by Kayla King
The universe seems small. Lear grasps it between fingers, plucking the strand of hair from Lina’s head. She sleeps on, not knowing the guilt Lear carries in knots between his shoulder blades. Taking the first piece of hair had been an accident. And he promises, “This will be the last.” Lear…
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Nothing Lasts by David Estringel
Stars fall against the murk of the night sky, a rain of fireflies, dying in mid-flight, hurtling, heralding, upon gentle heads blow, cruel truths. Nothing lasts. Nothing lasts. Listen to the harmony, that inaudible peal (Ong), that sets heavenly bodies to spin, amidst everchanging kaleidoscopes of the Void’s sacred geometries, pulling, tugging at Fate, with the waxing and waning of single points of light. Nothing lasts. Nothing lasts. We, the kings and…
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