Subscribe for fresh poetry and stories in your inbox.
See better, sirrah, for a name never did make a King. Because your father called you Arthur, and fudged the numbers to make your red blood blue, there’s Divine Rights to go around — a Crown for me, and one for you. Yes, there’s Royalty to spare and your
Short Poem This degree is draining me. From the tenth to ninth percentile I have learned there is no better feeling than breaking through the floor In other words losing everything
Flash Fiction It was the first snow the town had seen in decades, and he wasn’t alive to see it. He should have laughed and said it was ironic that the last thing we needed brought us all so much joy. Of course, when the snow froze and hardened,
Short Story Sometime in Berlin the old man boarded, looking like he’d done this hundreds of times, and took the empty booth as if it had been held vacant for himself. In truth none of the dozen people standing in the crowded carriage had noticed it until he took
Cornwall, 1651 Morwenna Morwenna realised she had killed the witch the morning after the storm. The body had remained on the branch of an old willow that shaded the path she took to parish every day. The witch swung, long and limp, the toes of her boots pointed to the
