Iqbal the Cat
Iqbal was born into his 33rd life as a cat. This would have surprised him, had he retained more of his previous memories, because his 32nd life had been spent as a Muslim who believed no such thing could occur. Iqbal the Muslim had, in fact, spent delightful hours over tea with a Hindu neighbor discussing the possibilities, or lack thereof, of reincarnation. Iqbal the cat dutifully washed his paws in the drinking-bowl after visiting the litter box. Then, catlike, he would be distracted by the trail of water splashed out of the bowl, follow it with his nose, and return again to the bowl to...
Read MoreThe Truth About the Expulsion
An Address Delivered at the East Orange Women’s Conference First of all, I wanted to go. Adam was the one who wanted to stay. If it was up to him, we’d still be there, spending eternity in mind-numbing peace and tranquility, every day sunnier and cheerier than the previous. Sure, it was Paradise, but Paradise gets old real fast without any contrast. Besides, it wasn’t Paradise with a guy like Adam. Bloated with his First Man persona, he thought it was he and only he who should name all the creatures that walked on land and swam in the sea. And they were the most boring names....
Read MoreFeatured Works: Week of Feb. 9 (Love)
Editor Alyce Wilson’s son with a sculpture in Rutland, Vermont In honor of Valentine’s Day this coming Saturday, our contributors provide glimpses of love: Kasey E. Johnson’s poem, “When We Think of Love,” takes a long-term, earthy view of love’s meaning. Terry Minchow-Proffitt’s poem, “Later,” captures the joy of the first hints of young romance. Regina Burleson’s flash fiction piece, “The Cage,” picks up a fable where an earlier contributor left off. In his flash fiction piece, “A Love Story,”...
Read MoreA Love Story
Alex felt so doped up with painkillers and anxiety-reducing drugs that when they wheeled him into the operating room, he couldn’t worry, had he wanted to. The one thing he recalled was asking if his wife had been notified. A familiar voice whispered, “I’m here, honey. I’m here,” but too much was going on to make sense of anything. He saw bright lights and people in blue scrubs. Someone told him to count backwards from ten. He reached nine when a new calmness allowed him to block out the image of a car racing through a red light straight toward him. It seemed...
Read MoreThe Cage
because so many wondered what happened … A once beautiful bird sat on a post in a gilded cage. Her claws gripped the post on which she sat. Her cage was made of the finest material. Her days were spent in the dark, only catching a glimpse of the outside world. As the years passed, she could feel time slipping away. Her body aged and she was weak from her burdens. When her cage was uncovered for her regular feeding, the brilliant light blinded her to what the outside world offered. Her keeper, the Lord of the manor, insisted he knew best. Indeed, he was a very important...
Read MoreLater
The summer our knack for Kick the Can arcs to Spin the Bottle, we rush supper to fling ourselves into orbit with Angela and her sisters. Delight declares itself in the rank Delta night, draws us out after dark to that lit knoll beneath the streetlight, where we vie with the prior whir and winged havoc of beetle, mosquito and moth. We tease and pick the mown grass, damp already with July’s early dewfall. It grabs hold at the ankles, clings to bare feet, shinnies up tanned legs and skirts under the fringe of cut-off blue jeans. We pluck the green stems of Bermuda, lift them slender to our...
Read More