Writing In A Woman's Voice

Last Call by Shannon Phillips Before them—the remnants of cucumber salad, rice, pita, and yogurt sauce. There was no meat le...

Lacunae by Joan Leotta I My dear friend, Arlene, called in March— our monthly “catch-up” or so I thought, until she rush...

No stone unturned. by Oonah V Joslin Turns out that paving stones are not all made of stone. Who knew? There’s natural...

Water Sculptor by Oonah V Joslin I’m more than sixty percent water. Wet the bed as a child. I’m forever dissolving into tear...

Boots by DC Diamondopolous The same sun scorched downtown Los Angeles that had seared the Iraq desert. Army Private First Class Sama...

Leaf and Vine by Lisa Fields Dreaming of regeneration, brown leaves curl and crumble New growth unfolds-- green, resil...

If Only We Could by Lisa Fields I have this yearning for all the young men and women in olive drab and polished boots face...