The lipstick was gross. Sticky yet dry, a bitter wax in ‘Fire Engine Red.’ It was orange. I was an expert on Orange thanks to my gang on The Street. Grover and John-John did a side by side analysis of red to orange just this morning. The lipstick was orange.
Roger Camp is the author of three photography books including the award-winning Butterflies in Flight (Thames & Hudson, 2002) and Heat (Charta, Milano, 2008). His work has appeared in numerous journals including The New England Review, New York Quarterly, and the Vassar Review. He previously worked as a reference librarian
There they were, finally, with a small sense of security. Approaching happiness, even, they sometimes ventured in cautious introspection. Yes, that. Incredible, after everything that happened. They shook their head, not wishing to dwell on the past. They looked up and tracked a large bird sailing east above the trees.
The impending arrival of the baby is thrilling; it’s been so long without a baby in the family. The parents, the kids, the aunties and uncles, the cousins, and the grandparents are beside themselves with anticipation. When she finally comes home, born on Thanksgiving Day, the baby feels like a
She was sitting behind the receptionist desk, reading a book about a waitress in New York. The novel centered heavily on food, and she could feel every morsel of it on her tongue. Her stomach growled and she salivated. She hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days. Maybe it wasn’t
First, there was the Void. And the Great Mother swam through the sea of nothing and was cradled by the Void. And the Void sang to Her. The Mother described the Void, and all the infinite they contained. And their love was eternal because there was no time and so
1.-waters-We swam in the river eighteen times last summer, The waterfalls washed our exhaustion away,And the current carried us through our griefs. We took the bridges over the river,Back and forth, up and across, high skyscraper, and arms length over. We took buses and trains, bikes and automobiles,But every time we walked