By Zary Fekete When I was ten my mother drove me to piano lessons every Wednesday. My piano teacher was an elderly lady who lived in a large, Victorian house at the end of the street. By the time the car reached her driveway I felt like I lost control of time. The hour ahead … Continue reading Bagatelle In A-Major
Mado Kara Mieru
By Steve Carr Aika sat beneath the blossoming boughs of a cherry tree catching falling petals in the palms of her outstretched hands. Her lips trembled as she hummed a tune of her own creation. It was as light and lovely as the gentle breeze that kissed her cheeks, an expression of joy, a celebratory … Continue reading Mado Kara Mieru
She Smiled
By Nancy Machlis Rechtman Her heart pounded against the walls of her chest, echoing throughout her body. Her head was filled with the staccato of snare drums. Clara looked down at her hands. Her hands - the one gift that couldn’t be taken away from her. Her hands - the hands that were about to … Continue reading She Smiled
Poems by D.S. Maolalai
Stone dead. my mam used to say each summer in the garden that "a bee will get in your ear and burrow down and it'll sting you stone dead" - perhaps to teach me I should clean my earwax. though I don't know - is that a common lesson? sitting at the table … Continue reading Poems by D.S. Maolalai
