For self-care as a writer, I clean the oven–once every twelve years. My mother always said, “Clean your oven every twelve years, whether it needs it or not.” Full disclosure: She never said that. But, although most household chores are…
Author: admin
Bowling Alone: Who does watching the Super Bowl hurt?
frankieleon Like millions of others, I need to decide whether I’m going to watch the Super Bowl. In other years that choice was either a no-brainer or simply a matter of pragmatics (do I have a papers I need to…
Beversluis Wins Short Story Contest
The Weekly Knob, an online publication, has chosen “Feuds,” a short story by Eric Beversluis, as one of the two winning stories in its first story competition. Each week The Weekly Knob sets a household item as a prompt and…
One Grate Task
Challenged to write something involving a cheese grater, our author finds art imitating life, creating existential tension. 4 minute read.
Murder at the Roadhouse
Junior Watson was good-looking. Not movie-star-Humphry-Bogart good looking but GQ Magazine-fashion-model good-looking. He was pleased with his looks. No. He was proud of his looks. Narcissus had nothing on him. It wasn’t just his face. He was blessed with…
Dog Day
My daughter overslept. Happens to all of us. “Can you walk Pudding?” “What’s in it for me?” I tease her. “Karma.” “Does that come in chocolate?” From the other room, Pudding hears me pick up my boot and is instantly…
Tomorrow
I walked to the edge of Tomorrow. Bright love burns the fog of sorrow. — Image:Copyright Rdonar | Dreamstime.com
Spring Storm
thunder soaking rain; flashing firefly finds shelter in the azalea
Recycled
Tossed out. Just junk mail. Reject. His life worthless. Her Love recycled him.
Gashes
The balcony, Elaborately carved white balustrade, spreads across two rooms, looks out across the blue-green sea cradling a stone promontory, smooth sloping surface, reaching several hundred feet above the water A gash, a road, cuts across its face halfway up…