A Tiny And Colorful Literary Journal

Archive for February, 2020

January, 2020

Two pieces by Jim Bates

Get Mod

After news of the mass shooting he threw his guns away. Then he bought a camera and traveled the country taking photographs of anything living.

Tangoed In Love

His baby girl grabbed a dandelion and stuck it in his face dusting him with pollen while she laughed and laughed. It smelled like love.

Jim lives in a small town twenty miles west of Minneapolis, Minnesota. His stories have appeared in CafeLit, The Writers’ Cafe Magazine, A Million Ways, Cabinet of Heed, Paragraph Planet, Mused – The BellaOnline Literary Review, Nailpolish Stories, Ariel Chart, Potato Soup Journal, Literary Yard and The Drabble. You can also check out his blog to see more: http://www.theviewfromlonglake.wordpress.com.


Three pieces by Nan Wigington


Her chest sank, body stank. Love despite. Arranged so, leg bones apart, broken neck cocked coyly. “Oh, my sweetie,” he would say, “I’m coming. Ready?”

Ask the Wizard.

The boy wanted yellow boots, a slicker sweet hat, 40 days of rain, six feet of flood. The days shone. Fires raged. His parents fought.

Not Quite Nude

She answered every door like that – fuzzy brown slippers, terrycloth bathrobe, escaping breast. Most turned away. But Lemuel sold her a set of bibles.

Nan Wigington keeps her nails short and unpolished. Her work has appeared in Spelk, Pithead Chapel, and Gravel.


Four pieces by Kelly Kotewa

Salt Water Happy

Joyfully we splash in the frothy backyard hot tub. Snow floats down on our upturned faces. The round butter moon is shining and we make wishes.

Serene Slate

The gong reverberates. Breathe in, breathe out, count ten. Shrieking thought birds zoom around my head. Breathe in, breath out, count ten. Again, again, again.

Getting Intricate

He says those words, and her air disappears. She pictures their small, trusting faces and chubby arms brown from sun. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Making Harmony

Parlor ivories, garage drums. Rounded, mellow, brash and dissonant. From opposite sides, brother-sister duets ease the house’s tension, music keeping our newly shaky familial peace.

Kelly Kotewa is a college instructor in Madison, Wisconsin. When she’s not writing, she is riding her bike in the beautiful Wisconsin countryside. Her previous work has been published in The Potato Soup Journal and The Harpoon Review.



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