He took his bike from under the porch and rode down the driveway and out onto the sidewalk. He rode around the corner and east on 47th Street past the Ford house and the other homes that all knew decent lives within. He rode around to the other side of the block, a short distance all in all, and then he was coasting up in front of Mark’s house, where Mark was already carrying bricks out to the sidewalk. Gabriel stopped and stood straddling his bike. Come on, Mark said. Are you going to help … Continue reading Two Homes by Douglas Cole→
If you’ve shopped at Aldi, the German-based grocery that’s expanding around the U.S., then you know their shopping cart system. You insert a quarter into the cart handle to unlock the chain attached to the next cart. When you return the cart, you can retrieve your quarter. I love this system. For one thing, it’s efficient. People don’t leave carts strewn around the lot, so the company doesn’t have to hire employees to retrieve them. That’s one reason it can sell a large bag of tortilla chips for under two bucks and a half gallon … Continue reading For the Sake of a Quarter by Gayla Mills→
My favorite television cowboy was the Lone Ranger because he didn’t sing, he didn’t kill Indians for the fun of it, and he wasn’t even a cowboy. He was a hero with an Indian for a sidekick. His horse was named Silver. It was a white horse, which is the best kind of horse for a hero because you can always see him coming. His bullets were made of silver. They were very expensive. This meant he couldn’t waste them. This meant he was a damn good shot. His black mask was the stark geometry … Continue reading The Lone Ranger Alone by J.R. Solonche→
There are times when Dr. Amanda Mullen’s visage takes on that of a lion tamer about to open the locked gate to the ring where the lions are gathered for them to be put through their traces; or, the look of a guide in Denali National Park on a trail in brown bear country, with an air of utter respect but also with an eye on possible danger. Dr. Mullen is sitting across from me as I recount how I have been blindsided. I tend to be a scrupulous planner, especially when I take Tevis … Continue reading Blindsided by Wally Swist→
Nigerian artist Imran Abiola Sulola started by taking pictures of the sun and the moon. Then in 2021, what began as a hobby changed after seeing photographs taken by Martins Deep, poet, portrait photographer and Facebook friend. “His profound, aesthetically edited photographs became the beginning of my portrait photography,” he remembers. Self-taught, Sulola says he immersed himself in YouTube videos and watched the work of other Nigerian photographers including Ilemobayo Ojo, Adesina Taofeek. Michael Emerald and Deborah Ajilore, “Their beautiful works have been an inspiration for me to keep exploring the digital art space,” he says. … Continue reading Nigerian Photographer Focuses on Self Portraits→
I thought it was all behind me remission said my doctor now only periodic PET scans to be sure only blood tests to double check numbers months of chemo, nausea and mouth sores left behind on a distant shore sailing easily on a salty breeze no worries weighing me down what I didn’t know is that remission means never really left behind cancer walking silently beside you like a shadow a part of your life forever like your best friend from first grade listen, can you hear the waves swooshing as you sail near the … Continue reading Left Behind by Claire Rubin Scott→
You don’t think about it unless you’re doing it. Coughing. The cough reflex is a critical means by which your body protects your airway from blockage by irritants or foreign materials. Like many bodily functions, it occurs without conscious intervention—until there’s a problem, and then it’s the only thing you can think about. An irritant in your trachea or lungs triggers the reflex, causing deep inspiration followed by forceful exhalation to expel the foreign material. When the cough reflex cannot stimulate a cough strong enough to expel the foreign body, hypoxemia (low oxygen in the … Continue reading Cadence by David Stern→
The slap came before I could take a breath. I had just said the word “Jiao” the way Teacher Zhang had taught me, firm in my seven-year-old confidence. My mother, arising from her chair and putting down her knitting, hovered behind me in her wool jacket and sharp eyes, and didn’t agree. “It’s pronounced Xiao,” she corrected, her voice clipped, sharp. “But Teacher Zhang said Jiao,” I muttered and continued reading aloud, repeating it the way I had learned. Her hand sliced the air. “I’m a teacher too!” she snapped just before it landed across … Continue reading The Slap and the Word by Jean Romano→
My teacher wife says that one learns by teaching. Of course, a good teacher must have mastery over the material to be taught. Another step of this ‘how-to’ of teaching is in preparing the method of communicating the material to the student(s). Process is a large part of teaching, or any craft for that matter. Better teachers are those whose process is engaging, even compelling, regardless of the challenging part. And a good teacher learns what accomplishes this engagement, what interests the students, how they learn. Unfortunately, the public-school curriculum is now dictated by state … Continue reading Interests of Old by Fred Wilbur→
I write in an accent interposed by war school closure, hunger and starvation. I write in an accent interposed by the absence of my father, the word that I stutter to utter due to the vague memory imposed by time despite the good things said about him. I write in an accent interposed by my mother’s many attempts to wrap her arms around the eight of us the way a hen would spread her wings to protect her chicks from the hawk. I write with an accent interposed By the stay-at-home policy of the … Continue reading Accent by Abraham Kedong Ali→
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