A Ladder To The Stars

For him the past was a story trove, for me it was a series of embarrassments that woke up and lingered like morning phlegm.

My brother tells another story on our porch. I notice how night falls earlier in mid-August. How the North Star rises off the horizon. How it calls me like a conjurer in an epic fantasy.

My brother will stay in this town and rise. He’ll talk about how the band played Forever Young at his graduation and he knew he was destined. But who will tell the story of that morning when I woke and wandered?

From Guest Contributor Dave Nash

Camaraderie Uninterrupted

I had a friend who rescued a dog. He told me it could speak. Russian. He knew that I was bilingual, so he asked me to do some translation.

I sat patiently, listening. Nothing. I’d almost given up waiting. Then I heard it. It was Russian, alright, with a Labradoodle accent.

Sadly though, it was total nonsense: “Spotted carats snipe phlegm kisses.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell my friend about his furrier friend’s crazed utterance. Instead, I said I couldn’t translate for him because I thought it might be Hungarian.

Someone else would have to burst his bubble.

From Guest Contributor Ron. Lavalette

Ron.’s debut chapbook, Fallen Away (Finishing Line Press) is now available at all standard outlets. Many of his published works can be found at EGGS OVER TOKYO.