Waiting for a chicken leg to broilI near the end of a chapter of Eco’s bookThe Name of the Rose.In my pocket is a timer ticking off the secondsAnd I […]
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The Metaworker Literary Magazine
Where great stories are forged
Waiting for a chicken leg to broilI near the end of a chapter of Eco’s bookThe Name of the Rose.In my pocket is a timer ticking off the secondsAnd I […]
Read moreRiding shotgun, I look out the upper right cornerof the windshield, writing in a blackEnglish car,and see a dark thing: a dot,with a wing, twirling and twisting, (convulsing parenthetically),almost intentionally, […]
Read moreThe photos on the website of the Gold Ridge Inn showed a log structure with a wrap-around porch and a hitching post for the horses of gold miners long gone. […]
Read moreIt was late enough that she didn’t even feel tired anymore. Clarissa squinted so hard her eyes hurt. She tried see through the fogged-over windshield as the onslaught of rain […]
Read moreCatacombs and catastrophe fill my head. I cannot sleep. We end up going for a drive. The car pushes past streetlights and traffic stops— little by little the comfort of […]
Read moreHow am I fitting in this right now? It’s been years, centuries since I was small enough to terrorize villages and miniature pedestrians in this mighty blue vehicle. It has […]
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