Fiction

By Dawn Vogel Seagull groaned as she cocked an ear toward the forest floor below. Her cousin, Raven, hopped along the trail, whistling as though he was just minding his own business. Seagull knew better–Raven was never up to any good. And lately, he had been up to even more mischief. Seagull reached for...
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By David Wood 10 November 1918, Verdun, France.  Harold Flansburg has been stationed at that hell of a battlefield since October.  This hallow ground resembled nothing like it was a few years before.  Hundreds of thousands of men passed through this fortified city to their death.  Their presence could be felt across the battle-scarred...
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By Douglas Craig Evangelia   (Gospels) The song of the Northern Cardinal:  clear slurred whistles, lowering in pitch.  Several variations. –  Peterson’s Field Guide to Eastern Birds. Of those mentioned, the one I am most familiar with:  what-cheer cheer cheer. I reread the online comment again. He’s one of the ones I haven’t heard back...
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By Michael Gatlin I meet Raven on the road to wonderland. I have never been to wonderland, and have begun to doubt its existence. There are many rumors and fairy tales, tall tales and stories regarding its magnificence. I decide to see where the road leads. A long and winding road it has been,...
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By Kathryn Willoughby Weed The magnificent horse flew down Virginia’s Midland Trail. It was broad daylight, not moonless night, and no Indians pursued. Yet the rider pushed the horse, loving speed for its own sake and wanting to make good time. But the stallion needed water and a short rest. The rider was weary,...
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Sarena Ulibarri When the first yoga student levitated, Ashley didn’t know what to do.  It happened during her Friday class, when everyone was settled into Savasana, the Corpse Pose, for the final relaxation.  Ashley sat cross-legged on a cushion at the front of the room, and two minutes into the relaxation, a man named...
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By Richard Bell I will find it before it does more harm. But Strongarm says this beast cannot be killed, this terror bird which has only madness in its eyes and does not hunt but slays without reason. So I say to Strongarm; be silent, your words do us no good. He scoffs at...
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By Aileen O’Connell Katherine had plans when the ghost got through, her birthday party on Friday and a date with Henry on Saturday. But near midnight on Thursday, the phone rang, terrifying her, in the way of sudden noises shattering sleep. Kate lifted the receiver and the hairs on her arm stood on end....
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By John Norris Linda’s vitriol carried from the kitchen, through the dormant halls of her mansion, and into my ears with unmistakable clarity. She started by calling me “that woman,” but quickly elevated me to “hell-spawned slut from Santa Barbara” by the third sentence. I lay in her upstairs guest bed, smiling wider with...
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By Jennifer Alexander Art is nothing more than the shadow of humanity.—Henry James The spider had been working on her web since dawn, excreting the long threads of silvery string that extended across the expanse of the window frame. The glass had been broken long ago and cardboard was the only thing dividing the...
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