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“Your library is your paradise”Erasmus Kees* didn’t tell his mother because she worked days cleaning other people’s houses. Plus she’d only make things worse. Her limited English skills – especially when angry – yelling and spitting in half-Dutch, advocating for her son’s welfare, would not have helped matters because itContinue Reading

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Alexis Blaire Zielke paints, writes and does 1:1 sessions with people, listening and talking about non-duality. She published her first book, The Nothing, on Halloween of 2024. The book is inspired by the antagonist of the Film, The NeverEnding Story, and is illustrated with drawings of endangered animals. The bookContinue Reading

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Old hags fly through history. On the backs of their brooms, the inevitable black cat. Ninetimes witches change magically into sinuous feline form. In mothy blackness cats’ eyes burntopaz, blood-stained ruby. Familiars, whisper secret chants. Black rites are hidden indarkness. Freyja, goddess of death, drives her chariot over wintry skies.Continue Reading

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Dandies moved into Peacock Lane & put a sexy leg lamp in their postage stamp bay window / The HOA was pissed but could hardly do a thing to stop gentlethems from erecting sexuality like a lacy middle finger / The chairwoman of the decoration subcommittee made salted pistachio brittleContinue Reading

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I should have known there was acatch. I thought my new husbandwas the catch, but that was before hetook me home to his dark house ofshadowy secrets, of strange pluckingsof the sleeve of my soul, of sudden clammycoldness creeping across my face the momentI set foot in the house he’dContinue Reading

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I. The raccoonwas early,before the crowded treesheld only warblersand the nattering of squirrelspummeled the lake in glancingdives, giving the grebes what for. Thenthere were still tanagers, voicingtheir globed remote golds when slywinds smoothed back the beech leavesand the squirrels were less feckless,cobbing their cones of pine in silentcovertness, near stumpsContinue Reading

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What changed my life one day was that I heardwhat happened one hundred ten years agofrom one who owed her being to a bird. Your first reaction hearing this: absurd,right? How could that be, and how could she know?I was suspicious too until I heard about the village razed, survivorsContinue Reading

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It never rainsin the Gingerbread Forestbecause that would be catastrophic—houses turned to mush,the occupants smotheredbeneath a slurry of crumbled walls,delicious but deadly. You’d thinkthat endless sunshinewould be a lovely thing,but it’s not.Even filteredthrough leaves and branches,the light is too constant,too bright,too much. As for those trees,deprived of rainthey are forcedtoContinue Reading

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The trees behind my house are old…very old……when the new neighbor moved in,he had many sawed down–claimed they were a dangerto his home.The neighbor stood and listened—I did as well–each thump on the groundbeat the earth like a drumwith no rhythm. Do trees hold a grudge?Underneath where their roots areContinue Reading

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Pried by persuasive light, flickering sun-dried eyelids, catch the flame of morning.Wake-up dust wells-up, in tear ducts of cognizance,spinning without moving. Digital clicks, after musical ticks, and red lights on a small black screen.Hangovers of comprehension, still trickling in,only conscious by concession. Grinding through gears, with growls of rust, andContinue Reading