The Cafe Review

by André T. Demers In the end, she said, he survived. Besides, she sighed, they say that love is a road and even crawling is heroic. She smiled,

by André T. Demers The floors slope from east and west towards the center beam of the house. Four pine wedges had been hammered between the

by S Stephanie Something about the clouds in the windows was upsetting, they were traveling on before I could grasp them and the poets were

by S Stephanie Lorca’s Calling after reading the documents on Lorca’s death finally released by Granada Police, 04/2015 I’m calling in

by Mark DeCarteret A Description of New England “ . . . the paradise of those parts.” John Smith It was

by Mark DeCarteret “ . . . and so we got rid of the day as well as we could.” — Nathaniel Hawthorne All that separates you from the past is this

by Sarah Anderson 1. They agreed to meet at half seven, the pub on the corner with the bright yellow door. He told her to look for his faded red

by Sarah Anderson You see, it was hot orange light back in the forest by the rusted water tower where he said never turn this way — flames

by Kathleen Clancy Shakespeare! Over and over and over again he professes his love: longer than time, more solid than stone, immune to actual war

by Kathleen Clancy At the end of a summer’s day gravity pushed me down toward the earth. I bounced once, landing on the sloping pavement. I