Stories
Story of the Week
Lebanon’s dreams of a homeland were fading with every rocket launch.
Teach me how to turn a phrase like “yellow hair” from simple to rich.
Poem of the Week
We caress the rough. Sensuous, delectable, and yet sorrowful.
Nonfiction
I want to focus on bears. On knowing them, and on what they need.
iPoems
Passions played among the orchids and through cherish and reveal.
Fiction
Marie was therefore exiled, as it were, like Cordelia in the old play.
Poem of the Week
The hawk moves out of the way to let a little hot package of breath rise up.
Poem of the Week
I thought my body was mine until it became a map anyone could use.
Story of the Week
They went to pray for the dead. It was important to shed some tears.
Story of the Week
Man is always beginning everything anew, even in his own life.
Story of the Week
Felicia knew why he was there. He was waiting. Waiting for her.
Story of the Week
The survival of our world depends upon the cultivation of better language.
Story of the Week
“We see you tryin’ to hide. Ain’t no use tryin’ to hide in God’s House.”
Poem of the Week
Have two children to keep around the house in case one goes missing.
Poetry Contest Winners
Tongue, eye, nose—which has the shortest route to the brain, heart?
Poem of the Week
Here’s where memory, where waves of light washed over him.
First & Second Looks
I knew it was Bible hell she had in mind, hell that went on and on.
Story of the Week
“Maybe you should leave the rumba to those who know how to do it.”
Poem of the Week
I’ve never cared for the National Anthem. It’s not a good song.
Story of the Week
He ended every year in this manner, writing and dreaming.
Editors' Note
Narrative offers any reader a modern pocket library.
Narrative High School Writing Contest
We are in his car. “Bell, I’m starving. Want to go for a burger or pizza?”
I panic. Pizza. 285 calories per slice. Burgers. Harder to estimate.
Nonfiction
In Florence I gained a sense of how I might want to spend my life.
Nonfiction
Widow. I look up the etymology. To separate, split, cleave, divide.
Poem of the Week
The guy who drove the mother to the morgue hands him an empty.
Nostrils a little raw, displaced, conscripted, by your Shock and Awe.
Story of the Week
Chess was a humiliation that hung over him like a leper’s bell.
