A Tiny And Colorful Literary Journal

Posts tagged ‘Lisa Nielsen’

October

Artful Dodger by Jennifer Falkner

The shoes are Manolos and the scarf is Hermes. But the purse–Balenciaga—carries almost no cash. And the credit cards are too easily traced.

Jennifer Falkner’s work has appeared in The First Line, Paragon Journal and Flashquake.  Last year, she received the Reader’s Choice Award for a story appearing in Fiction Fix.  Links to these and other published stories can be found at jenniferfalkner.blogspot.ca

 

 

Secret Story by Pamela Hill

She runs barefoot through sand and giggles and chases tumbleweed as it dances toward the dunes. Then the wind shifts, and the tumbleweed chases her. 

Pamela Hill loves to write.

 

Skirting the Issue by Danielle Fouquette

 “We should talk.”

“Later.”

For him it became the roots, twisting over rocks toward the bank.

For her, the trunk, leaning recklessly over the current.

Danielle Fouquette has been preparing to be a writer all her life.

Two pieces by Monica Crumback

 Tickled Pink

It was just a shirt

on a hanger

at a charity store.

But when she wears it

off her shoulder,

it becomes so much more.

 

Innocent?

Not exactly.

Not mint green, lime.

Like a splash in your beer

or the zest of life

sunk deep in a decadent

key lime pie.

Monica Crumback’s essays and poetry have been published in numerous print and online publications, including Brain,Child: The Magazine for Thinking Mothers, Skirt Magazine, and Vox Poetica.

Otherwise Engaged by Joanna Owen

You’re in white silk taffeta.  He’s in a rented tux.  I wear a bridesmaid gown and wish you’d slip the ring on my finger instead.
 
Joanna Owen is a full-time nurse and part-time writer living on the coast of southwest Florida.

Lincoln Park After Dark by Alina Pleskova

I paused after we passed each other, just in case. Checked my pulse and found it steady, signaling too slight a danger to bother. Yawn.

Alina Pleskova lives in Philadelphia by way of Moscow (she doesn’t have an accent, but is happy to humor you with a pretty decent imitation upon request.) She is the Poetry Editor for Apiary Magazine, & can usually be found frantically running across the city in stilettos, determined to dispel the commonly-held belief that poets are never on time. No such luck yet..

Three pieces by Lisa Nielsen

 Sketchy character

You are just an outline, a deliberate rough draft, but you mirror my discontent so I will tiptoe, like an acrobat on your chalky silhouette

Secret story

You, adrift in a car I don’t know/ me, behind the door/ playing safe with an elusive faith/ lighting a candle to follow your shadow

Gossamer White

I wish I had the audacity to shimmer in a train of stars, but I can’t fight the tenacious debris of rocks and broken glass.

Lisa Nielsen is a single mom living in Staten Island, using poetry to dodge laundry and yard work.

Bring Me the Moon by Rachel Alday

“Be wary, letting a literal-minded woman fall in love with you,” the lunar emperor said. “‘Beyond the fields we know’ is closer than it was.”

Rachel Alday is a cook who lives down in the hurricane state.

Six pieces by Jessica Tsuzuki

Denim

They were her favorite jeans—tight on the curves but loose past the knee, leaving just enough space for the hunting knife in her boot.

San Francisco Sparkle

The vampire pop queen sanguine in all aspects beseeches the crowd . Love me,mortals. Through red eyes that hint of gold, she leaves us mesmerized.

Dazzling

Blinding chunks of funky glitter cling to her frail form. “Nothing can outshine my discoball headlights.” With heavily accented alienation, tonight she owns the world.

Matte Aqua

Animal, vegetable, or mineral? None. Pure hard metal with a candy coated shell. She’ll give you her number, and hack your accounts in your sleep.

Yellow It’s Me

A bright morning howdy form your obnoxious neighbor, Jane. Sunflower petals scatter down the hall after her, showing where she’s going; knowing where she’s been.

Plugged-in Plum

Pirated on a private IP, I find myself solemnly hacked, staring at the once idle screen, now dancing to the beat of distant digit drumming.

Jessica Tsuzuki has amazing adventures, mostly in her head.

 

 

Love Me Tender byDan Hart

After school, I douse my nails with polish remover and rip the rainbow freedom rings from my neck.

At home, I must not be me.

Dan is an engineer working, reading, and hiking in Silicon Valley, where he is happy to be himself.

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July

Smoke by Bruce Harris

The trouble began with three words, “Have a light?” There were matches in the ashtray. He grabbed one. Now, he trades cigarettes to stay alive.

Bruce Harris enjoys relaxing with a Marxman.

 

Rambunctious by Alina Yudkevich

Heathcliff’s bones were made of rubber, according to his mother. He held his breath when she walked by, so she wouldn’t see his toes wiggle. 

Alina Yudkevich is a 17th grader at the University of Georgia studying English and Film Studies. She works part-time at a particle accelerator laboratory, and will be very embarrassed if she accidentally ends the world. 

 

I’m a Rich Girl by Mitchell Sommers

There’s no “reading of the will.”  That’s just bad movies. Only a check, all my father had. I clutch it, not crying, not yet, anyway.

Mitchell Sommers is an attorney in Lancaster and Ephrata, PA. He is the fiction editor of Philadelphia Stories.  He received his law degree from Penn State, Dickinson School of Law, and his MFA from the University of New Orleans.

Two pieces by Monica Crumback

Eggplant Frost

It’s like Gettysburg behind the garage, thanks to all the frost. Late October. Here come leaves, rakes, then Christmas. I pray it killed the wasps.

Red, Red

It’s not a color so much as a banner painted on her mouth. Nude is useless, like pink and blush. Red says she’s growing up.

Monica Crumback‘s essays have been published in numerous print and online publications, including Brain,Child: The Magazine for Thinking Mothers, Skirt Magazine, and Vox Poetica.

Three pieces by Lisa Nielsen

in a flash

you were miles gone before anyone noticed.

a flash of light,

a moratorium on what light really means

and shadows turning bitter in your wake

 

decadent

you were too amused to catch on

that I was predisposed to lavish

love on scented lips, to sway my hips

and ask for change

 

strike a pose

head to knees

fingertips to toes,

I spy through my legs like curtains,

and take my breath for granted.

today, forgetting is my conciliation prize.

 

Lisa Nielsen is a single mother living in Staten Island, using poetry to make sense of the world.

 

Varnished by Mary Nelson

Diagnosis for Narcissa: Allergic to her own image. Therefore avoid light. No mirrors. Reaction from Narcissa: Asks for stronger Benedryl. Opens compact and checks make-up.

Mary Nelson is an octogenarian who has been writing ever since college days having published short stories and two historical novels. But she’s not above delving into some humorous challenges such as this one. She believes that without a sense of humor the creative process is minus a powerful asset.

 

Three pieces by David Ellis Dickerson

Pearl Drop

Heartstruck, she fainted in the opera’s loge. Her necklace spilled. Today, children discovering marbles underfoot cup them to their ears to hear “una furtiva lagrima.”

May

In the middle of her jump, she paused, hovering, undecided about whether or not to land. Both milieux have good arguments. For now, air wins.

Carry On

Slide the buckle. Flotation device. In the event. The compartment overhead. Secure yours first. Assist your neighbor. No smoking. Tampering or disabling. Thanks for choosing.

David Ellis Dickerson is a regular contributor to public radio’s “This American Life” and the author of the memoir “House of Cards.” He could not resist this magazine’s concept.

May

Mysore Passion by Rebecca Gaffron

She came for the experience; and rippled European yoga men aroused by her strong asanas. But she always carried hand-sanitizer. The locals might be contagious.

Rebecca is a sometimes writer, sometimes procrastinator and hopes she will be forgiven for both.  She can be found at: www.rebeccawriting.wordpress.com

 

Midnight Blue by Christina Murphy

Knowing how to behave gets you a yacht, the Cinderella, floating in the bay at midnight as you await the woman you plan to seduce. 

Christina Murphy lives and writes along the Ohio River. There is much about a major river to suggest words, currents, and images–many of which, in some form or other, find their way into her poetry.

Three pieces by Carly Berg

Turquoise and Caicos

A winter Minnesota tract house. Muumuus and bangles, mango walls, big plants. Jambalaya, no clock. Barefoot blues by the fireplace. Her husband was a macaw.

Swept Off My Feet

The Prince tried the slipper on all the women’s feet. He wouldn’t stop. Cinderella cried. Disney Security intervened. The guard said they’re all like that.

Pink-a-Boo

A cupcake lady, ruffles and ribbons. Hanging out the wash on a crisp April morning. When she bends, the neighbor man sees sweet blush cheeks.

Carly Berg is an editor, writer, and flop-about. Her work has appeared in Pank Magazine, Dog plot, Front Porch Review, and others. Nail polish makes her happy.

 

Riding Hood Red by Karen Walsh

What big eyes! Pale and cold, like blue ice. He paws my cape, nails sharp as thorns. I should flee, but I don’t. I surrender.

Karen Walsh is a psychologist and university instructor in St. Louis, Missouri. She has been writing fiction for fun but no profit for many, many years.

 

Hackney Spackle by Lisa Nielsen

he has my penchant for sarcasm

splaying it out before you like an enchanted gift

but a pantomime of devotion is all he’s actually offering

Lisa Nielsen is a single mother trying to balance the mundane with the groovy.

 

Atomic Orange by Katherine Lopez

The sky splashes bright orange over the sea. You wish it were cold, a smoothie. Instead it’s hot as the air, tainting fish, ships, beach.

Katherine Lopez writes stories, poems, essays, articles, blog entries, letters, notes, and doodles. Some of which are published.

 

Limited Addiction by Edie Montgomery

The nightmares of her past haunted her, even in daylight. Made her crave the poison. Each day it saved her. Each day it killed her.

Edie Montgomery has bungee jumped in Australia, swam with a shark in Tahiti, and slept in a haunted castle in Scotland.  Now she just likes to stay home and write little stories.  You can find her on twitter at @MeWriteWords.

 

Two pieces by Nicole Monaghan

Stiletto

He thought it was an Italian dessert, and I said no, it’s how I reach your lips.  We kissed again.  He said short was cute.

Taffy Town

He said everything was sticky here. The diners, the dance clubs, the situations. He wiped his hands on his jeans, said get used to it.

Nicole Monaghan founded and edits Nailpolish Stories.  Every once in a while, she publishes her own stuff here.  Because she loves to write.  And loves NS.

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