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By Allister Nelson The carriage rides to eternity. It is still and dark in the shady expanse between Death and me. He wears a starched, button-down white linen shirt with breast pockets, dark slacks, a midnight blue waist coat, and holds a silver beveled edge pocket watch that he checks every quarter hour.
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By Francesco Levato The pyre is hung with garlands,
locks of her hair twined round with venom, burned in flames fed with dying hours, with the hollow rushing of wind among branches, a voice compounded of all discords. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Francesco Levato It was the dead silence of our gaze,
the cold touch of impression, conceived to be hunger, that note of the unnatural, in wants that first awaken. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Meg Yardley The Beast’s Palace
The palace looks just like you imagined. The palace looks nothing like you imagined. The palace has walls of rose-veined marble. The palace has parquet floors in the entrance hallway. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Priscilla Atkins Did I tell you about the dead girl who chased peanut M&M’s around her carpet, midnights? Okay: She was alive, and, at fifty, a woman . . . but her enthusiasms! And it was more like 2 a.m. that she would stumble out of her bedroom and rummage for the current bag of half-eaten sweets. Between her semi-awake state and the dark, some M’s inevitably dashed towards freedom, lodging in far flung crannies. She sometimes crawled after them. Other nights, she left the escapees and lurched back to her room clutching the stragglers. She’d lie down and play a couple rounds of Candy Crush Saga, chomp a few, and start snoring again.
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By Holly Payne-Strange Photo Credit: Ruby Saltbush
The sea serpent sank into the salty spray. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Holly Payne-Strange Photo Credit: Ruby Saltbush
Budapest. New York. Maybe Athens next? We could go to the rose garden, the one you showed me last spring. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Elizabeth Porter Experienced Balloon-Twister Wanted
to twist shapes from blown latex & to remind us that everything is temporary, even this air we breathe into shapes-- flowers and elephants, especially The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Sarah Das Gupta Dark and deep in the forest the trees press closer.
The canopy is thick, impenetrable, no sky no light breaks through the green gloom. A black bird perched still, unmoving on the shadowy pine may be carved into the frozen branch. The Breadcrumbs widget will appear here on the published site.
By Sarah Das Gupta a brown hare runs quickly across a ploughed field
the furrows are tipped with flecks of white frost as it effortlessly leaps the waves of black mud in the early Spring sunlight brushing the soil its bobbing black-topped tail quite quickly disappears into the darkness of the wood |