Gem Dust
Can I Bloom And believe that Despite ashen and tarnished shadows Even if built of bricks and sticks and stones...
Sandra Gould Ford’s essays, fiction, memoir and poetry.
The Minx
Why didn’t she turn white? And what was she anyway, that sleek, furry black creature … a small animal, tail...
The Tap
The Universe resounds with the joyful cry, I am. –Scriabin Tap: to pierce in order to draw off liquid … to...
Hey
I trusted you. That secret was ours. We promised, No snitchin’. So, why’d you talk? We could have used that...
Wolf Beneath The Waves
The brick-red Jeep Wrangler cruised beside the icy river, kicking up great sprays of snow. The driver, Peyton Granville, said,...
Evening Star
“Being right can lead to lonely nights. I guess you know that now.” Addie Capshaw Blaylock leaned toward her daughter,...
