March 1st sees the inaugural SFWP Poetry Contest. I’ll be discussing the finer details in future posts, but let’s start out with an introduction to Rose Solari. I first met Rose a couple years ago at a very impressive Christmas party. It was the sort of...
A man goes to the doctor. He says, Doctor, my memory is bad. Every morning I wake up and I can barely remember what I did the day before. I try to make resolutions to be a better person, to travel, to learn things, to lose weight, to stop bad habits, but then I forget...
“Floor ‘Z,’ please.” The school elevator was packed, but no one spoke. I noticed several kids glancing at me in the reflection from the brass doors. RING! “Excuse me,” I said, squeezing out into the hall. I was the only one. The doors closed and the elevator resumed...
Energy flowed through Michael’s hand, through the torch, into the metal. He didn’t plan in advance what he formed. There was no plan. It was only the desire to begin. Once he did, the forms took a shape of their own. The metal twisted, burned, and bent. Smoke...
“Roll them,” Asha said, setting down a round ball of flour she had kneaded into shape on the smooth marble slab. “Let’s make a circle, like this,” she gently massaged the dough with a rolling pin, Peter’s eyes growing more rounded as the ball of flour spread to the...
