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Cooly my border collie doesn’t see the same things Rollo does

Rollo my dog likes to bark at pictures of other dogs. We have a room with one and he barks at it. I thought maybe like night gallery. Cooly my border collie he doesn’t see the same things Rollo does. Cooly paid no mind to the squirrels until he saw Rollo chase after them. Now Cooly barks at the tress thinking there’s squirrels in them. He likes to play. But the difference between Rollo and the pictures, is that Cooly can’t tell which ones have dogs, so he barks at all the pictures on the wall. By: Eugenio Zorrilla. Continue reading Cooly my border collie doesn’t see the same things Rollo does

The woman, Elayna, jabbed eastward just as the ship came around

Tempest Tossed by Shaun Kilgore 1 The winds buffeted the ship as it plied the narrow spaces between the chain of islets. The rigging was close-hauled, wildly forcing the crew to make last minute adjustments to the sails just so they wouldn’t collide with the rocky specks of land. Just behind the helm, a tall imposing woman stood solidly while the deck gently tilted side to side. Arms crossed, she had a stern but shrewd look on her weathered face. She wore breeches like a man and a loose, flowing shirt that was cinched closed by a snug vest that … Continue reading The woman, Elayna, jabbed eastward just as the ship came around

“Your wound, I know the cure,” he muttered in the Saracen tongue, which I had learned to mastery before the journey.

The Healer of Montgisard By: Aya Bassiouny We were told before we departed that a man’s life cannot be taken, unless he gives it away; that if we wish to guard our souls, we hold fast to the sword, for the soul that dives to battle takes it wing from the limbs. But on the ship to Ascalon there was already the scent of death. The ones we loved we kissed good-bye and rode the waves as if there was no coming back, our long green mantles wafting atop our shoulderblades. We were sailing eastward to our dog days and … Continue reading “Your wound, I know the cure,” he muttered in the Saracen tongue, which I had learned to mastery before the journey.

it's grading on on the curve

There’s no room for uniqueness in balance.Yes, balance. The problem I see with balance is in the end everyone is the same. It’s balanced and no one outshines the other. Two is the same as one. It is a normalization. It would compare to being graded on the curve after taking a test. It’s representative but not factual. So, where’s the spice of life as it’s often said. I’d go for harmony. In harmony like a chorus every voice contributes to the whole and every voice is significant because of its uniqueness. Author/Editor: Eugenio Zorrilla. Continue reading it's grading on on the curve

“Oh, can’t you write it funny?”

Liz and Julia are driving down a rural road. They are on their way to the farmers market. Liz is driving. “How far do we have to go?” asks Julia.   “Not far, just about twenty minutes,” Liz answers. “Fifteen miles more. How are you coming along with your story?” “Well, it’s coming along but I need to make it funny.” “I thought it was a scary short story.” “It’s got to be funny scary or people won’t like it.” “Oh, can’t you write it funny?” Julia smiles and asks, “You mean like using comic sans for a font?” “Ha-ha, … Continue reading “Oh, can’t you write it funny?”