Retreat - Cedar Valley

Sidney Poitier II

Molly keeps cutting her meat against the grain, as blood and balsamic puddle in the center of the plate. She’s got the wrong knife, the wrong motion, even the wrong angle. I feel like taking the proper knife and doing some proper cutting and forking a cube of meat up...

A Promise for the Fugitive

Zychi III had devastating indigo skies which word has it even a black hole looked at so covetously it created a counterfeit world a replica that a survey crew saw before their transmission choked off   After the cull you ordered, the crimson ripples left a legacy...

Periscope Portuguesa

The Way There: Moored off Muscat, Alfonso de Albuquerque weighed pearls, entered inky figures into conquest chronicles, leaning columns cataloging greed, and wondered whether to boil or fry the glassfish for lunch. Low on oil, brandy, joy, patience, and citrus, the...

Capsule

When I say you, I mean anybody but. I want to generalize my way out from under this. As in: by the time you read this, I will be long gone. But how can I be believed? Paradox is one of those words. A trash can diagnosis. Throw the DSM at it and give it a pill. Any...

Poppy

Poppy is a master weaver. Her eyesight is dimming and her fingers are gnarled but they still ferry beauty into the warp and weft. For twenty years she’s worked on this wall-hanging to conceal the crack on the bedroom wall, above where Odin briefly lay in the marital...

Lamentations of a Teddy Bear

  I am tired of lying here under the bed The floor is cold and a mouse roams free. I used to sleep atop the bed Tightly held and cozy covered.   You used to dress me cotton coats And sit me in a chair. Now some of my fur is torn And one eye dangles loose....

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