Tag Archives: progress

KEN GOSSE: Shoulder Surfing

Artistic, Poetry, Submissions, , , , ,

When I rest on the shoulder of giants
to hear what they say or to see things their way,
they aren’t all enormous but may help inform us
and broaden our naivete.
I write this to say that we might look that way
to someone on our shoulders some day.

Like most of Ken’s submissions, this story is a rhymed poem. Inspired by a friend’s Facebook conversation earlier this year, Ken looked up the history of the phrase “standing on the shoulders of giants.” Best known, perhaps, is the letter by Isaac Newton to his rival Robert Hook in 1675, but it has been dated to 1159, attributed to Bernard of Chartres (this Ken learned from a concurrent giant). Newton’s letter said, “If I have seen further [than others], it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.”

ROBERTA BEACH JACOBSON: Far From Any Harbor

Artistic, Submissions, , , , , ,

mountains protect
the quaint village
keeping it remote

although unmapped
the hamlet is spotted
by whirling drones

excited tourists
skip through the gates
spilling into streets

hiding in shadows
villagers tremble
silencing their lutes

once the music stops
the tourists retreat
no longer enchanted

at nightfall
villagers gather
strumming anew

Roberta Beach Jacobson is an author, poet, painter. She makes her home in Iowa.

ROBERTA BEACH JACOBSON: Time

Amusing, Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

Work in the time of Covid
Renting in the time of inflation
Parenting in the time of bullying
Dating in the time of social media
Dieting in the time of food delivery
Journalism in the time of artificial intelligence
As time goes on, don’t be surprised if clocks melt

Roberta Beach Jacobson is an American poet and author who is drawn to the magic of words – poetry, song lyrics, flash fiction, puzzles, stand-up comedy. Her latest book is Demitasse Fiction: One-Minute Reads for Busy People (Alien Buddha Press, 2023). After spending 38 years in Europe, she relocated to Indianola, Iowa with her husband and three cats.

KARIN DOUCETTE: Lost Appetite

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

When talons scratch the aluminum light pole, a clot of alarmed mallards skitters across the nearby pond. But Hawk focuses on the mammoth housing development blocking the skyline. Earth machines are stripping his meadow, releasing a feast of rodents and hares. No thanks. There’s already a lump in his throat.

Karin has published on thewritelaunch.com, fiftywordstories.com, and in The Antigonish Review. One of her short stories and a stage play were quarter-finalists in ScreenCraft’s 2023 international competitions. Born on a small Canadian island, Karin has lived/worked or travelled on every continent.

BRIAN MAYCOCK: Passage

Artistic, Submissions, Top Stories, , , ,

The skeleton of the fishing boat is exposed as the water retreats, stripped of its engine and compass, its paint, its name.

Stripped of pride by quotas and technology–by change–the man stands by the shore. Once, his life flowed with the tides; now all he has is time.

Brian Maycock’s short stories have appeared recently in 101 Words, Paragraph Planet and Trembling with Fear. He lives in Scotland.

THAD DeVASSIE: Things Left Unsaid

Artistic, Submissions, , ,

They have been painstakingly cataloged, each with date stamps remembered vividly, ready to roll up on your shores like muscle memory, like grudge-holding tides that never forget. When you’re willing to let it go—all of it—to make amends, to say your goodbyes, let it not be too late.

Thad DeVassie is a lifelong Ohioan who writes and paints from the outskirts of Columbus. His recent work has appeared in Unbroken, Spelk, Lunate, and Ghost City Review, among others. He is a winner of the 2020 James Tate International Poetry Prize for his manuscript SPLENDID IRRATIONALITIES. His chapbook, THIS SIDE OF UTOPIA, will arrive in 2021 from Cervena Barva Press. Find more of his work @thaddevassie.

BEN MIMMACK: Look to the Future, Not the Past

Artistic, Submissions, , , , ,

Everyone else is a newcomer. He lived here before they built the road. Before the road gave rise to the houses. Before the houses necessitated the church and the pub. But now they need a school and an old tree can’t be allowed to stand in the way of progress.

Ben lives in Dallas where he is viewed with tolerant amusement by his wife and two small boys. He has just started writing micro fiction and hopes to get better at it.

FIONA M JONES: End of the World

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

After I died I watched my invention rolling on through generations and centuries—ever larger, ever faster, more numerous, powered at last by the burning of Earth’s darkest fuels until the air itself changed and the suffocating world headed towards another night.

I would uninvent the wheel, if I could.

Fiona M Jones wrote this story.

YASH SEYEDBAGHERI: Home, Where Are You?

Artistic, Submissions, , , ,

Nick’s hometown is missing. Where are silent evening streets, where he cruised in his Subaru and listened to oldies?

Cars roar, faces consumed by exhaust.

Where are the small shops, sizzling with pizza and cigarettes? Easily walkable blocks?

Skyscrapers rise, proud monsters.

Nick wanders, denying, not ready to bury home.

Yash Seyedbagheri is a graduate of Colorado State University’s MFA program in fiction. His stories are forthcoming or have been published in Café Lit, Mad Swirl, and Ariel Chart, among others.

EO HARGREAVES: Familiarity

Artistic, Submissions, , , , ,

It’s the woods and the painted barnstar that hangs upon my neighbor’s house; the nightly vigils that loiter in the windows and the blue Dodge Dart eaten by rust that Mr. Thomas refuses to get rid of.

Placing newly built concrete gods in the rearview, I wonder… where’s home now?

E.O.’s pretty sure that Starbucks is evil. Stores keep spontaneously appearing where trees, herbs, and game used to be, even though their coffee isn’t very good. What type of obscure witchery is this…?