When it is Dark – by Sabha G.

I only like to read the Sunday paper.  It’s not like I don’t have time to read it any other day of the week.  I’m just not that interested.  Sure, news is news.  But I look at it like the package deal.  The calendar section.  The funnies.  The cable listings.  Coupons to clip.  The opinion of the common man.  Editorials to line my birdcage.  If I had one. For me, it all revolves around the walk.  Yes, the walk.  I get dressed for... Read More

Cup of Joe – by Sabha G.

It wasn’t easy for him to open the door to his office that morning.  He knew it.  He was through.  He had enough.  The politics.  The bullshit.  A couple of accountants and the government were on his back, trying to pull his strings.  And after thirty years.  Thirty years of playing the game his way.  Working it solo.  Nah.  He had to get out.  Live off his junk bonds and real estate.  Sure, he had a mortgage and alimony to pay, but... Read More

Subway

Deep within the steaming underground – beneath Los Angeles in August 2006 Down between the walls of shadow Where the iron laws insist, The hunger voices mock. The worn wayfaring men With the hunched and humble shoulders, Throw their laughter into toil. Subway – Carl Sandburg #gallery-1 { margin: auto; } #gallery-1 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-1... Read More