Smooth jazz hands Washboard flow Headlamp strapped on uneven Forehead skin Leaky light Peppers black skies Mirage of sun Mirage of light Footfalls…
Prose & Cons
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Faltaba poco, Pero sabía que con cada paso, y arrastro Los dibujos hechos de tiza que vivían en la vereda se irían desvaneciendo Translation: Childhood Little…
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The man stared at the screen in front of him, empty in the court’s precedent. But after the sound of three piercing, ringing knocks, the…
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Heaving, shaking, to-and-fro Back and forth, side-to-side Hold my hand through them Everything is cascaded in neon green Yet you are illuminated in that bluish…
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She believed with conviction she was tethered to a celestial body? For how did her light dim in perfect synchronicity? She knew Every time she looked…
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The old, beat-up gunslinger walked out into the open square that afternoon with a gun on his hip that he had fired a thousand times…
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The writer stumbled out of the den and into the alleyway. He appeared to be struggling to light the pipe hanging limply from under his…
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Before I start this story and tell you all what happened and why you might not hear from me anytime soon, I guess I should…
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Billy Lemon was the first to strike the ground with his shovel. The dirt was fresh, but not fresh enough. They were in for a…
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Parvathi dabbed her forehead with a wet washcloth and glared past the sun’s beams at the rickety sign her father had put up thirty-five years…