The age-old practice of humans, to talk to themselves, is the reason for all that we humans do. We wrap this habit in a beautiful word called…
By Scott Archer Jones
Two middle-aged half brothers kneel in front of the dish-carton as it lies on its side–their…
By Bruce McRae
A house drawn by a child.Purple and crooked windows.A big yellow sun smiling at a cloud,a single sad and silvery cloud.And what I think might be a treein a yard with a broken fence,with a pathway winding…
By N. Urja
(to keep the formatting of the first poem intact, we have added it as an image)
Dear beloved reader,
Small protein-like molecules are used by neurons. Let’s now use the age-old tool of…
By Vinayak Patil
Eyes
By Louis Faber
He knew she had a specialmeaning for him the first timehe saw her, from his usual seatby the window in the diner, waitingfor his bagel and cream cheese,
By Bobbi Sinha-Morey
Wrapped in the stillness of a warm sleepy room, visited by a memory attached to a burgundy dress, I look back on a life I knew not long ago and now I’ve carried this memory to my new home where I…
By Rhushikesh Kharkar
Poem 1:
ना आस कोण्या वैभवाचीमी कालचा कंगाल आहेआज मजवर आणताव्यर्थ ही जप्ती कशाला? अनुभवू दे शाप सारेआपल्याच माणसांचेसोसू दे साऱ्या क्षणांनाइतक्यात ही मुक्ती कशाला? भरकटून आज थोडेतोल शब्दांचा ढळू देबंधने साऱ्या जगाचीपाळण्याची…
Fiction by Captain Jack Hawksworth Esq.
