FOG OF WAR • by Morris Alexander
There is a kind of fog in this city that seems to put everyone on edge. Sometimes too there is a cold hard rain, and not just in the winter months. Between the fog and the rain it can be… Continue Reading
There is a kind of fog in this city that seems to put everyone on edge. Sometimes too there is a cold hard rain, and not just in the winter months. Between the fog and the rain it can be… Continue Reading
I’m one (perhaps the last one) of those genetically mutated humans who thrives on cellulose and ink to the exclusion of all other food. When Papa died in ’90, I bought a huge collection of books at the Ossing estate… Continue Reading
The leaf blower started again. Running through her sliding glass door in an open, yellow robe and fuzzy slippers, Eloise bent to scoop up a handful of fountain stones, smooth river rocks polished and wet, shining bits of natural art,… Continue Reading
The poem formed under his fingers: dull, shallow, and utterly lacking in cadence. Navin frowned at the words as he examined them for any semblance of merit, but found none. He still didn’t know what his destiny was, but he… Continue Reading
“Somebody rescue me!” Carrie thought as she flipped the burger. She flipped the one next to it. There was that hiss as the new side of the meat met the hot plate. She sighed. An observer, maybe someone sitting at… Continue Reading
“Oh, look. A new study finds that sugar causes depression. How about that, May. I guess we’ll have to quit eating sugar. We don’t want depression. Depression will kill ya.” Harold’s hands tapped his viewing screen, making it scroll. “Yes… Continue Reading
At first, Gina thought the day was cloudless, but, leashing Tilda and stepping outside, she saw the entire sky was one diffuse, glaring white cloud. She fished around in her tote bag for sunglasses. Poor Tilda, blind and incontinent, barked… Continue Reading
When I slipped on the missing slipper and took my place by my prince’s side, I had no idea just how much I’d be wearing the things afterwards. Nobody ever told me a princess was on her feet so much… Continue Reading
It is dark when you leave class today: twenty minutes late out of what is already a night class, having stopped to ask the professor a question about Murphy’s Law. The campus is empty in a way that you’ve only… Continue Reading
She says a prayer before she steps inside, a prayer for the restless, then crosses the threshold and announces, “I am here.” Immediately, the atmosphere in the room shifts, and a quiet settles over the house for the first time… Continue Reading