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
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
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
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,
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