Tom C. Mangé, III sat on his favorite stool in his favorite alley dive, 2 Dumpsters & A Homeless Man.  With paw on head, familiar glass pour

The sudden gust of wind tilted her forward. She stood on the white railing overlooking the river, and braced her body against the steel. The

Reverence, I am as good at this quality as any other average person: not as good as some, but better than others. Yet with you it seems so e

It is mid-morning and I am riding in the far backseat of a bus, the number of which is close to the number of days I have been divorced. The

Andy thought about it. He had heard the name before, The Multitude. Just last month, an emergency newscast ran about an incident perpetrated

The weekend before Valentine’s Day 2011, I went to a local wine bar. The kind of bar you go to for casual conversation and the .05% chance y

I would have done anything for her. Even if it meant following her to our graves. She was all I had, and without her I would have died anywa

I sit sipping the nectar of ancient gods, the golden splendor that is mead. The honey jasmine infused liquid caressing my lips, feeling wisd

I collect words. I catch them when they are not yet spoken, when they are little smokey silver strings or bold blue gold clouds. Some of the

It was the middle of the night and we were both awake. I could feel him stirring beside me, so I inched closer to him until I could feel his

Andy could almost hear the clink and grind of the gears in the captain’s brain. The captain was plotting.

I stand in the driveway, staring up toward the sky as her car drives away.  The wispy ashen colored clouds saunter by in congregation, not p

Jeff didn’t talk much to his coworkers. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them; he just didn’t feel a strong urge to converse with them. The f

He was drunk, but his eyes shone through the dimly lit room, steady and bright. Nothing got past this boy with the steel face and vibrant wi

You know your Mexico fishing trip is off to a great start when as soon as you walk out of the airport, you look down and you’re standing on

Shannon and I were in second grade when she asked me the question. We were having a conversation for once instead of my usual M.O.—me teasi

The winter makes my condition even harder. The nights are long. The water is cold. I cannot remember why I chose London as a place to pause.

I eat the blueberries to remember why we weren’t meant for each other. How it was all just a figment of our imaginations. What was perfect i

I have lived in Europe long enough to have assimilated, yet I still never quite managed to get a handle on the coins, always stumbling over

Being smashed out of his gourd on LSD sounded lovely—at least then he could write off this living nightmare to a psychedelic-induced haze...