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on August 23, 2022

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"Shadows," by Sebnem Sanders

[ Originally published by Carpe Art Journal, October 2018. ] The elongated shadows of the houses on the opposite side of the road fell on the cobble stones, as the sun sank in the horizon. The street was empty, but she could hear children’s laughter mixed with the rhythmic sound of a rope slapping against the concrete, and the gentle thud of feet on the pavement. A soothing melody. Little light beings, full of joy, skipping solo and in pairs. She imagined them, swapping places with the girls turning the double dutch, as they practised, improving their skills. As the sun set and the shadows melted into the street, she moved from the window of her sewing room. Passing by the girls’ dresses displayed on the mannequins, the seamstress headed to the kitchen. Time for dinner. She opened the front door and whispered, “Daisy, come home.” Twilight had enveloped the village. She hated this time of the day. Neither dark, nor light. Gloom invaded her thoughts as she opened the garden gate

Special Presentation: "Damaged Goods," A Novelette by Jesse "Heels" Rawlins

Readers who wish to devour this well-paced crime mystery in a single sitting will likely need about an hour. Those who want to read at a slower pace over several sittings will find scene breaks, and can easily return later as if reading a novel. Ms. Rawlins sometimes tells this story in a helter-skelter fashion—and deliberately tosses aside certain historical writing conventions, which may leave readers feeling a bit off kilter—but I think her story works. I hope you’ll enjoy this tale as much as I did. Editor-In-Chief Jesse Rucilez This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. For your convenience, the author has also provided a .pdf version of this story to download and read at your leisure: Damaged Goods By Jesse “Heels” Rawlins Blood-red nails drummed the drab gun

"It's All A Work To Begin With," by John Patrick Robbins

Cover art by John Patrick Robbins. Shooter felt his age a million times over every morning he set his feet down on that cold hardwood floor. Beth always was up before him, of course. She was a few years younger, and hadn't been taking bumps he had taken in a business everyone considered fake. Including his own children, who pretended their father was just a guy who ran a gym in Jacksonville, Florida; not the salty old bastard who all the marks knew as Shooter Stevens— A former college wrestling standout who took that ability and made his living in the circus industry that is pro wrestling. Shooter felt every break and pin in his tired old carcass as he stood up, looking out the window to witness a beautiful sunny day upon the horizon. "Larry, Stu's on the phone. Baby, are you awake?" "Yeah, sweetheart. What the hell does he want?" Shooter's wife refused to call him by his working name, which, after spending as many years in the biz as he had, he answe

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