The Visit by Susan Bloch
It’s all the same, and yet, somehow, nothing’s the same. On a balmy September evening, Janet cowers in the shadows cast by a parked BMW in Thornhill Crescent. Her white Nikes scrunch the orange and brown leaves...
Read MoreIt’s all the same, and yet, somehow, nothing’s the same. On a balmy September evening, Janet cowers in the shadows cast by a parked BMW in Thornhill Crescent. Her white Nikes scrunch the orange and brown leaves...
Read MorePosted by admin | May 11, 2025 | Hand Picked, Poetry
“I have been here before, but I do not remember why.” The river stretches before me,...
Read MorePosted by admin | May 3, 2025 | Hand Picked, Poetry
The crisp water rides its way up the smooth sand and then retreats, leaving a unique foam I...
Read MorePosted by admin | Apr 29, 2025 | Blog, Hand Picked
Does anyone care for Romance any more? Laila and Majnu, Sohni and Mahiwal, Romeo and Juliet? Film...
Read MorePosted by admin | Apr 17, 2025 | Hand Picked, Poetry
ventnor city, new jersey in the long stripe of setting sun, at the hour...
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