Body of Light
“The body of light, sometimes called the astral body or the subtle body, is a quasi material aspect of the human body, being neither solely physical nor solely spiritual…”
FICTION, PHYSICALITY
FICTION, PHYSICALITY
An Exploration of the Night and Safe Spaces
They kicked the family out of the apartment upstairs and I saw them with their things on the side of the street. Everybody is looking for someplace safe.
FICTION, PHYSICALITY
The Depths of Finer Things
The first time I died, Ima tells me, the sun flared its great, fiery disc and swallowed the whole world in a moment. And everything that had been was then no more.
FICTION, PHYSICALITY
The Definition of Hope
The day breaks sweaty like the last. Like every day in summer. And especially so in the city where there are no trees to provide shade – only countless blocks of cement baking like the desert, or like the desserts baking in oven pans from the church basement after service. All we can do is hope for rain.
FICTION, HUMANITY
Not For Sale
Gogo was raised by her uncle after her mother died and her father left for Argentina. Her father never returned from South America, and whether he was alive or dead she never cared to find out.
FICTION, TRAVEL
To Be So Far Gone
Love is freedom, Gogo said. Love is flying and falling and falling and catching and getting up again. Love is not what it was before, she said, but what it will be tomorrow.
FICTION, POLITICS
Our Promised Revolution
The café is where the future will end and begin again as talk of uprising – our promised revolution – is loud and most-persistent here. It keeps our hands warm in the winter.
FICTION, POLITICS
Bury Me in St. Paul
It is a warm and humid night in summer. The sound of dogs barking on the street. The sound of crickets from the brush and cicadas in trees. Fireflies flash like tiny cameras through the grass along rows of dark cars parked along the curb.
FICTION, HUMANITY
A Thousand Happy Lives
His father lived a thousand lives before he died at the age of 53. He worked as a security guard for Gem Lake Casino by Highway 29, spending his days watching screens linked to cameras placed high above the casino floor. He watched people playing cards, pulling levers, drinking, laughing, shouting below. Drawn to the
FICTION
Ageism, Part Three: An Old Man’s Story
One old man tells a story of life lived; the poetry of a world we were all forced to inherit, and that we will all be forced to someday give up as well.