The Auditor
The warehouse is just outside of Chicago, which seems ironically fitting for a place that’s probably been committing fraud for over a decade. The place itself isn’t flashy, which has probably
The Auditor
Her Father's Daughter
They say I have your sober eyes Every time I smile And carry your mettle spirit Through every trial. I am reminded of your calloused hands Clinging to my mother’s waist, And
Balance
Salt water ignites the path to my lungs, crushed underneath weightless suspension. Refractions reach my drowning breath with clarity. Reflections pull my clouded eyes above the tide. Steady the pendulum. Silence the scales.
Sister Water and Brother Wind
On a bleak, desolate plain, amid a land of lost dreams, A wind-child with hair as black as a raven’s wing Peered out of the darkness deep, emerald-green eyes narrowing wondrously As
Life, Ripples, and Cheese
Let me begin with a silly example, just to get it out of the way. I don’t like cheese. The recipe addition is usually added to mask the more flavorful, and often
Icarus
I am awake wondering why both love and anger burn, and why Icarus fell into the sea for the Sun. My soul reaches out into the forge, an unconditional death grip on a
Forge Before a Race
An echo in the openness in the empty field in my hollow chest in my barren breath Coldness. Along the horizon, fire flushes, but it’s not here, not yet. In the stillness,
Dwell
There you are just standing around, Hands in your pockets, eyes on the ground As if they hammered you to what could’ve been A matchless heat, a bosom friend. Open wounds pierced
I Accepted the Risk of Winter
I accepted the risk of winter. I treaded through frostbitten words that numbed my face and burned my ears. I tripped on trust, broke ice three years thick. I dropped below zero, my
Complexity
My hands quiver with a sense of thee Vanishing in the night, A feeling of longing only I know to be right. The swirling winds, they beckon me to Trace the leaves dispersed.
Gone Astray
I gaze up to the scorching sun, And it’s burning down upon The stones that lay so still and fragile Until the night is come. Not a whisper to be heard by
The Heartkeeper
By Natalie Crowe The man before her didn’t fit the stereotype of the clientele she normally received. He was too tall, too young, too handsome, too perfect. His hair was dark and
Winter's Spring
By Gloria Gustafson Nature retreats home Friends and flaming lights bring peace As Night takes its watch Gray curtains of sky Swing aside to stained glass panes with Dawn’s housekeeping Snowdrops bend
Letters from Kat
By Johanna Clark Kat always said she would travel the world, Sue thought as she looked at the postcards. Forty years were compressed into a three-inch stack packed into the driftwood box that
Phoenix
By Anna Huttar Tangled, twisted carpet, shreds of grass Folded together into clumps of death— The fodder for a raging appetite, A carcass for the prairie’s ravening crow. The hungry flames come,
Requiem for the Living
By Erin Hall My grandpa died yesterday. It happened at three in the afternoon, on Saturday. It was a gorgeous day, one of those ones where you start to feel summer looming on
One Autumn Day
by Jonathan Talley James sat on the park bench, his breathing calm, the winds around him still as the sea. It was a pleasant day, nothing much going on. No babies crying, no
clover flowers
by Emily Bond weave your clover flowers into necklaces watch your goldfish crackers swim in their blue bubble bowl borrow your friend’s strawberry toothpaste that you somehow still taste fall asleep to
Story Soup
Savannah Pack The sky was gray. The clouds rolled in, and the damp wind flattened the grass around their cave like a mat. Even before the Old One came in, massaging her wrists
At Rest
Haven Visser We whirl amidst infinity Through universes, twirl And something in us longs To seek out safety in this world But nature here is tainted These souls so full of greed What