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Gregory Sherl misses the tenderness that made him feel home on your skin. He is sick of eating alone. He drunk dials like a champion.
Gregory Sherl loves with his fingertips the most.
Gregory Sherl misses the tenderness that made him feel home on your skin. He is sick of eating alone. He drunk dials like a champion.
Gregory Sherl loves with his fingertips the most.
Hindu gods grant Indira’s wish to be reincarnated near me so we can marry yet again. This time, I ask to be reborn a goat. Cycle broken.
Karl Kudrej is a TV news photographer turned fiction writer. He believes TV news is fiction. His photography appeared on CBS News.
At eight, it started to rain. He should have been off at five, but then, by his accounting, he should have been a lot of things by now.
Elizabeth Gallenberg lives in Wisconsin, where she gets hopeless crushes on literary characters and sings to her cats.
Happy in her ivory wedding gown and veil, how could she guess that she would love only him, and he would love only the children she bore.
K.M.A. Sullivan would like fewer children and more tire swings.
Adam, now Eve-less, stood before his most exquisite Bonsai, wallowing in the miseries of youth.
Seth is S.H. Gall in Word Riot, SmokeLong Issues 1 and 27, and Five Star Literary Stories.
He writes the perfect tweet. Nails it. It’s Hemingwayesque. The Shakespeare of all tweets! One tiny problem, though. It has 141 characters.
Bruce Harris enjoys relaxing with a Marxman.
“It’s not your strongest,” said his patron, and he fell into an abyss of dark shadows and rum until rescued by that probiotic yogurt drink.
S. Kay (@blueberrio) enjoys tiny things saturated with flavor.
He wrote the poem out for her carefully and she folded it just as carefully and slid it under the short leg of the table.
Grove Koger is the author of WHEN THE GOING WAS GOOD and lives in Idaho.
He sat to watch the world go by. He waited for insights. Instead he found himself, thinking more and more about less and less.
Dorothee Lang edits the BluePrintReview and currently is into skies, collaborations, and miniatures of life.
Her husband said no—that any more than a handful was a waste. She went ahead with it anyway. He seemed to enjoy being a hypocrite.
Steve Calvert is a writer from the UK. His website can be found at http://www.steve-calvert.co.uk.