Old Diaz
By Michael Wayne Hunter “Lock up! Lock up!” Officer Diaz, a squat, aging man, gratingly bellowed, shattering my…
August 18, 2012By Michael Wayne Hunter “Lock up! Lock up!” Officer Diaz, a squat, aging man, gratingly bellowed, shattering my…
August 18, 2012By Santonio D. Murff A sunny blue sky and a cool summer breeze greeted me as I bounced…
August 10, 2012A Short Story By William Van Poyck When the assassins come they kill everyone. That is what you…
August 3, 2012by Thomas Bartlett Whitaker Part 4 can be read HERE It would be highly illogical of me to…
August 1, 2012by Thomas Bartlett Whitaker Part 3 can be read HERE In an essay on Proust, Samuel Beckett wrote…
July 27, 2012By Reginald S. Lewis A cold, blustery wind blew furiously through Graterford maximum-security prison in Collegeville, Pennsylvania. I…
July 20, 2012by Christi Buchanan Adoption is a cold, sterile thing. No pomp. No ceremony. A child is born, a…
July 14, 2012By Michael Wayne Hunter “Hunter,” a guard shoved mail through my cell bars. No one knows I’m here,…
July 6, 2012By Thomas Bartlett Whitaker Several months ago, I had to write a short paper on the 17th century…
June 30, 2012by Santonio Murff “Umm . . . excuse me, miss.” I halted the sensuous stride of the six-feet…
June 22, 2012