e-revista EgoPHobia - ISSN 1584-6210
de Georgiana Ilie Melania păși pe asfaltul înghețat cu un oftat de ușurare. Ura să zboare. Scările alea metalice către ușa din față a fuzelajului – cele care parcă își râd în barbă la fiecare scârțâit la care pasagerii tresar, toți purtând în minte același gând fatidic – alea erau cele pe care le ura […]
by Oindrila Ghosal Sound The first time I draped the beige tussar silk saree, I had no premonition. Even when I ran my fingers across the embroidered flowers and paisleys on the dull gold of the coarse silk while adjusting the pleats, there were no whispers.
by Douglas Young Clyde Baxter and Sedona Watts held hands driving up the rural, two-lane highway. They had almost reached the mountainous Thadeus Holtzclaw State Park where Sedona had tried to get Clyde to go camping for years. Though she loved the outdoors and had many happy camping memories, Clyde preferred nature from a […]
de Cătălina Popescu Umblasem toată ziua, era cald și orașul dogorea. Am găsit părculețul din întâmplare, de fapt cred că mă cam rătăcisem puțin, dar petecul acela de răcoare m-a făcut să mă opresc. Era un scuar, cuibărit în mijlocul unui pâlc de case dichisite. Nimic mai mult decât o alee circulară, străjuită de tei […]
by Lance Mazmanian [Quantum Adjustments]
That Lived-in Look “nothing is different but/ everything has changed” [paul simon] sweep the floor predict the weather
by DC Diamondopolous Paparazzi elbowed their way past CNN talking heads as media from around the world made camp on the plaza. Fans, young and old, T-shirt vendors, street singers, mime artists, and pickpockets crowded La Scala Square, and the Piazza del Duomo. Helicopters circled, the chop-chop mixed with the thumping rock of the jumbo-screen […]
by Kenneth M. Kapp There was an old cedar table and four chairs in a corner of the front yard. If the sun was in the old man’s eyes, he’d carefully set his coffee mug on the grass and move the table and his chair an inch one way or another. The boards were gray […]
by Shobhita Thakur The wheels of the stretcher rattle rapidly through the crowded hospital corridor, Bhumi lying on it in a fragile haze of near unconsciousness. Her super-thin, young body, barely eighteen, cannot yet comprehend what has just struck her world.
by Zary Fekete Nora was surprised by the green. From the road the hills had looked dry… grasses shaved short and pale as old rope… but once they parked and walked toward the trees, the color gathered and thickened, pulling in the light. It wasn’t a brightness so much as a concentration; the kind of […]