ROSE ANTONELLI-FATTON, MEDITATIVE FLIGHT. PEN AND INK ON PAPER. Rose Antonelli-Fatton is an artist, writer, and musician who works with at-risk and special needs students, helping them to use art and music as therapeutic tools to improve behavior. She is currently enrolled in Ashford University's Master's in Teaching and Learning with Technology program, with only two classes left. She plans to go forward for her PhD in education.
HEY NINETEEN She was running headlong into the soft, sunset breezes along the marina and her platform shoes and bellbottoms were impeding her progress. One misstep, just one little slip of the heel, and she would topple six feet and face plant on the sidewalk. A gang of men in various states of intoxication and nonsense were trailing her slowly, languishing in their beat-up Plymouth convertible, and making loud, aggressive threats: detailing the various sexual positions they’d like to see her in and what they’d do to her afterwards. Miscreants, she thought, loving how the word rolled around in Read More »
TWO STORIES Origami Airplanes David folds his napkin into an airplane, scrunches his forehead into a question mark, and says, “Bet you don’t know what this is.” “An origami airplane,” I tell him. He tells me he told me so. “You don’t understand,” he continues as he points the nose of his origami airplane at my open mouth. I know if I let more words come out, the plane is going to hit David’s target. The only way to try to prevent the attack is to close my mouth. I do. David turns to the window. Fog clings Read More »
POP-TARTS We were standing in aisle seven at the grocery store, scanning over the variety of pop-tarts, when I thought I heard his voice. My small human ears became animal like, lifting suddenly, picking up the once familiar tones of his voice. My body stiffened and my breathing slowed as I listened intently, re-confirming my suspicion. Yes. Yes, there it was again, the familiarity moving my heart, restless in its cavity, my stomach releasing a thousand butterflies. The great pop-tart debate: is strawberry better than blueberry, and can we get the REAL ones this time, because the fake ones Read More »
SOUTHERN SKIES REFLECTIONS Michelle Pechlin-Flathmann
THE MADNESS The driving force of beyond / Discovery and invention / Birthday Eureka’s and innovations / Temptation by all directions / Thought reflections of infinite feedback / Force cover the mirrors you paint black / Washing clean it seems to reveal a mnemonic leak that fights back. Mind holding the equivalent of the big bang / Sanity has no home the crazy man sang / Yet my guardian angel appears only to give more knowledge / And God says to me I gave you the gift of madness. Forsaken but why, I realize that no one is Read More »
CHANGING I had a deep feeling of dread and my stomach felt as if it was dropping to the cold ceramic floor. I knew what I was hearing was devastating, not just to my dad and me, but it would be for many. We were sitting in a drab painted emergency room for what seemed like an eternity when a hip looking doctor with an earring came in and began telling us that my dad had stage 4 lung cancer. After hearing this, in my mind I made the commitment to fully care for him the remaining time Read More »
PSYCH! “Come on Jeanette,” Kara whined. “You heard what that psychic said to me. She was dead on. Just do it. It’ll be fun. Besides, we still have half an hour before the jousting show.” The sweat was starting to run down Jeanette’s face, and she was so full of turkey leg that she should have stopped ten bites ago. A Half an hour seemed like an eternity, and Jeanette was over listening to Kara go on and on about how awesome and accurate these psychics were. Jeanette sagged her shoulders and walked to the nearest trash can to Read More »
WILDFIRE The acrid smell of smoke burns my nostrils. I blink ashes off my eyelids as I join the search for Mrs. Murphy’s ancient cat. For the past few weeks, our eyes have been glued to the television screen like insects to flypaper. There are maps of the affected areas and information about what to do, but we sit frozen in disbelief at times. As visions of flames as tall as skyscrapers eat up the sky, the newscaster informs us of the danger. “All residents near the southern border of Davy Crockett National Forest are being forced to evacuate. Read More »
GOOD NIGHT SUN BACK ROAD Nicolette Ashley is a junior majoring in Entrepreneurship. She enjoys being an advocate for individuals with disabilities, including her daughter Emily who is diagnosed with Autism. When NicoletteAshley is not busy with her family, work, or school she enjoys taking photos of the world around her.
WALKING SHOES Once. Twice. Three times J will drop her shoe on the sidewalk. She will be barefoot. It will be a good thing that the street she will walk down (to go wherever she is supposed to go) will be well lit and clean. Otherwise her shoe may be lost forever. By this time, she will regret wearing the impossibly high heeled, gold, strappy sandals anyway, since she has to walk to, wherever. J will recall the conversation she had with herself while she stood next to her small closet, jammed with clothes that were too small for Read More »
THE HANDSOME STRANGER Levitigus La Guardia is a natural born artist whose artistic abilities have gradually advanced over time naturally without any formal training. What inspires him are the weird and eccentric things in life, and he likes to incorporate that into his paintings. He grew up in a small mountain town called Toccoa, in North East Georgia. He recently graduated with his MOAM from Ashford University and plans to move back to New York City to explore a career in Healthcare Administration along with a career as an artist.
MEMORIES OF JENI The drive home from the funeral is long. I hear my mother-in-law in the back seat, whispering to my daughter about heaven. Jim, my husband, is driving and listening to his music. I sit in the passenger seat of the van staring out the window as the lights from passing cars reflect across the highway and blur in my tears. It should be raining. The skies should be crying. I never realized how much one person could influence every part of your life. My friend, my mentor, is gone. I met Jeni in school. I was Read More »