Fiction, Non-Fiction, and Comics since 2012
There is a certain type of madness, they say, to living under the midnight sun. A lack of punctuation; days that blend together in a ceaseless feast of light.
We all worship at the same church now, which, for safety, is located on the twisted tract of asphalt that used to have basketball hoops.
This is the eye of James Monroe, fifth president of the United States, 1817-1825.
Illustrations by David Dodd Lee
Michelle Ross & Kim Magowan
What I felt, hearing the story a year ago, was wonder and envy. This was before I started going out with Geri, and two girls seemed like a crazy surfeit of riches.
When she first told an audience about her time in heaven, she said she was lucky to have her daughter there for support. She gestured to my seat in the back row.
But not “the body.” That’s the breaking news. She has a name now. They keep showing the same picture, grainy, badly cropped.
Fine short fiction, comics, and non-fiction since 2012