e-revista EgoPHobia - ISSN 1584-6210
[essay] by Nolo Segundo Modern societies in general and especially it seems those in the West suffer under the widespread delusion that people today are ‘better’ than their ancestors who lived long ago—not just better off in a material sense but smarter, more sophisticated, and far better educated.
by Bill Tope Scott Brown sat on the sofa in the shadowy living room of his modest clapboard house, a warm beer clutched in his hand. His clouded mind journeyed back through the previous year. What might he have done differently? he wondered. And what should he do next? With a tired sigh he sat […]
by Jonathan Ferrini “Where’s Momma?” “Passed out cold from her morning fix. “My gang members are lookin’ for a score and think there’s money inside a storefront full of old pianos.”
by Douglas Young Winston smiled driving home from his after-school job. Twelfth grade was going well for the eighteen-year-old, and he really liked working at The Cluttered Bookshop, a downtown used bookstore where he mostly read while the free-range cats, led by the seven-toed Mr. Cheshire, climbed bookshelves and rested wherever they pleased.
She-pirate and the tavern It’s a late and warm autumn. The wind gathered leaves up on the roof of the marvelous tavern.
Rachel of the suburbs Rachel is most often seen in dresses, floral, like a walking garden, roses and daisies growing out of bright green, blue or yellow earth.
by Dominik Slusarczyk In this painting Jesus is bound and his eyes are covered. Someone is about to punchy Jesus and someone else is about to whip him with a rope. Jesus is bound and blindfolded and he is getting beaten up by a group of men.
Falling, Sinking I am falling, falling, falling— into the cycle of living and dying, again and again without end,
by Zygmunt Nowak Solinski Headlines in all languages precisely at the same time around the globe – ‘God Shuts Heavenly Gates’. That was when all Hell was let loose, an appropriate way of describing the unfolding situation, given its magnitude. No one knew why He cancelled.
*** my throat is sandy yellow on the outside my throat inside is sandy crumbly who and to whom prays during the heat whose deity will be a mirage