Priyatam Mudivarti
Blue Flame

Priyatam Mudivarti - Blue Flame

Fiction
Priyatam Mudivarti grew up in India and the Middle East and now calls Cambridge his home, where he works as… Read more »
Michael Ugulini
The Cardinals of Avery Street

Michael Ugulini - The Cardinals of Avery Street

Fiction
Michael Ugulini is a full-time freelance writer from the Niagara Region, Ontario, Canada. He is a published writer of newsletter… Read more »
Jon Udelson
The Twelfth Remember

Jon Udelson - The Twelfth Remember

Fiction
Jon Udelson is a graduate of City College’s MFA program in Creative Writing. His fiction has appeared in [sic] literary… Read more »
Gregory Wolos
Tweetsie Railroad

Gregory Wolos - Tweetsie Railroad

Fiction
Gregory Wolos’s short fiction has recently appeared in Grey Sparrow Journal, LITnIMAGE, The Baltimore Review, The Los Angeles Review, PANK… Read more »
Elizabeth Wetmore
Women & Horses
(1976)

Elizabeth Wetmore - Women & Horses
(1976)

Fiction
A native of West Texas, Elizabeth Wetmore is writing a novel set in the oil patch and a collection of… Read more »

The Cardinals of Avery Street

Michael Ugulini

Elaina showed me the nest, positioned for optimum safety, in the bush that separated our two homes. She pointed out how the male and female cardinals—the parents, she emphasized—were diligent in protecting their young and never strayed too far from the small alleyway that partitioned our properties.

I could hear the cries of the baby cardinals. Each night I watched from my back patio as "the parents" flew back and forth from lawn to bush, always with some morsel of food for their offspring. Elaina would watch me watching the cardinals. She watched from her sun room that looked into my backyard, peering from behind the California shutters that gave the traditional-looking house a contemporary veneer. I’m not sure if she knew I knew she was watching.

~

She arrived in Niagara Falls one October from Beslan, just as the autumn colors began their final performance of the year. Your winter is coming quickly upon you, she would say each morning as I left for work. She was always up, no matter what time I left in the morning, sitting on her front landing, always smoothing her dark black hair, a yellow ceramic coffee mug that seemed to… Read more »