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Art, Fiction, Film, Poetry, Theatre, & Other Imaginings
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By Koon Woon  Artist's Statement
We write to be known. Being alone is terrifying. No one to bounce off our thoughts, living in a bubble and denying it. We hope to say and do the right things so that we will be loved. But sometimes we are too immature to love or even to accept love. Hopefully whenever it comes, each one of us will find love.
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By Mary Joy Quinn  Alaska Cruise
And when I stepped out Onto the ship’s balcony, Pleasure rushed in. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Kenneth Kesner  Travel to Bali
everyone’s looking at the clock trains to arrive time to stay The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Moriah Hampton  I will my wound to heal.
I see the blood course, splatter onto the floor. I apply a cloth. The surrounding skin begins to swell. Once cleaned, a scab forms. I know the flesh will repair itself. The scab shrinks; the edges flake. I pick at the wound, peeling off the scab despite the pain. I chide myself. Days later, the second scab falls away. Holding up my arm, I admire the puckered skin. I am amazed. My body regenerates itself. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Moriah Hampton  In a classroom, I sit across from two guys. They are younger than me, at least by twenty years. We are discussing a piece of fiction. The topic of sexual violence against women is raised. I watch the two guys look at one another feigning concern. Silent gasps. Wide horror-filled eyes. Except I know from their suppressed laughter that neither in fact cares. They turn back towards the class. The conversation continues.
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By Donna Dallas  Author's Statement
The word “examination” comes to mind. These poems were born from recent periods of self-examination. They formed from quiet times, when I was able to delve into pockets of myself. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Nathan Tompkins  Dear J,
I’m writing this letter in that journal you got me so long ago, the one with the Star Trek emblem, and my name etched into the cover. It was another life, another time. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Catherine Coundjeris  Bent like the Rainbow
Yes, our plans are well wrought fashioned with colored pens on fine notes with printed flowers. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Cortni Merritt  One December, my grandmother fell,
shattering her shoulder like a grey-feathered queen |
