Breath & Shadow

Breath and Shadow

Summer 2011

Volume 8, Number 3

 A Time of Great Pleasure By David C. Kopaska-Merkel

A flexing of the Worldskin, and Bird flies, Calling. It is a time of joy, for strangers have landed on Mechaieh. A silver egg resembling the spawn of Frog drifted gently to the ground near Pool. Out of it hatch five beings of the same color and reflectivity, though the egg is not broken. The hatchlings proceed to water's edge. Frog greets them, but the strangers do not answer. Dipping one of its upper limbs into the water, one of the creatures drinks with a mouth at its waist.

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Forgotten Fault Lines by Roger Wayne Eberle

Two Tuesdays have passed
since our grim anniversary, and now
it is hump day again, and you
still swear the glass
is half empty, and I keep pouring.
Like the monsoon,
I won't quit.

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Pass the Word by Glenda Beall

I was extremely pleased when, upon making telephone reservations at the Comfort Inn in Asheville, NC, I was told by the reservation clerk, "We don't use fragrances in our rooms. We don't use air fresheners or anything with a strong smell."

 I could hardly believe my ears, and wondered if that was indeed true. When I arrived at the Comfort Inn, which is clean and nicely appointed, I made my usual "smell test." How refreshing to enter a motel room and not feel my bronchial tubes closing. In fact, I breathed deeply to see if I would have any respiratory problems from polluted indoor air. I did not. I complimented the motel. I always write a letter to companies when I find a place that is mindful of the air we breathe and the health of their clients.

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No Bird Song By Lachlan Walter

I wake suddenly; sweat pouring off me and soaking the mattress. My eyes shoot open and see nothing but the dark of the middle of the night. I reach across the bed. The other half lies empty.

The alarm clock ticks away on the bedside table beside me and I count the seconds as they pass. Outside the window, the wind blows hard.

The door opens slowly, hinges creaking loud in the quiet. Something stands there: a silhouette, the hallway light framing it from behind. It’s somehow familiar… It runs one hand through its long curly hair. Although I can’t see its face, I know that it’s watching me.

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Jazz Soul by Dorothy Baker

You sit at the portal between jazz and my heart

No drama here

Only clean sound

Telling the truth playfully, fearlessly

Not afraid to be the “bad” guy

Like you

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Sleepwalker by Carla Rene’

"You want me to use what?"  My voice came out as a quack.

The physician stared at me.  "You heard me, Missy."

"But why?  Lots of people lose use of their legs all the time, it certainly doesn't mean they need a walker."

I was getting good at that high-pitched, nasal whine.  I'd used it on my mother for years.

"C'mon, let's see you try it.  You're not going home until you walk from here to the wall."

“Hmmn. I wonder which medical journal that little test was in?” 

I moved to the edge of my bed in slow motion, hoping he'd simply lose interest and go away.  But it didn't happen; he just flapped at me to move quicker.  So I upped the degree of difficulty by putting a scowl on my face--just to prove how much I detested this.

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Just Passing Through by Mary Elizabeth Gillilan

At the crest of Scenic Drive, a brick and clapboard house sat on a knoll. Dandelions and crab grass overpowered the rows of strawberries that made up the front yard.   Morning glories strangled anything in their path. The house overlooked the Yakima Valley; it was Mama’s dream house, but Mama’s dream clearly was not the garden.   It looked as if the only gardener had been God, who after throwing the seeds out had gone onto shape the valley and dry, mud foothills of this eastern Washington town.   That is if you believed in God.   I had a problem believing in God. I was fourteen.   The year was 1964, and I was just beginning the eighth grade.

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The Return By Lorcan Black

I have been silent
since you left- and shall remain so as though all sound
swept from the room with your absence.
I wait and count the hours,
still, voiceless and patient
as a stone.

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