By Michael C. Roberts

Granddaughters, up from the south, are fascinated by a patch of old snow on the hilly side of the house. They had discovered their absent father’s sled in the cluttered basement with broken slats and chipped runners. Grandma encased their tennis shoes in bread bags with large rubber bands around their ankles. For once, the girls took turns. Later, they shivered in the front hallway with wet legs and bottoms. Warmed by hot chocolate with marshmallows, they descended again to the basement and found in a chest their father’s wanted poster, yellowed and torn from the Post Office bulletin board. 

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Michael C. Roberts has placed numerous photographs in literary outlets and a few written pieces in The Human Touch, Invisible City Literary Journal, A Story in 100 Words, Story Quilt, and Silly Goose. Inspired by Edgar Lee Masters, he has written a “Spoon River Redux” that will likely never be published but writing it helped pass the time during the pandemic.

By Peter J. Stavros

We carry our lunches in plastic grocery bags, Tupperware containers, insulated totes. We move in silence, impassive, vacant stares, arms full, shoulders slumped, merging from parking lots, bus stops, subway stations, onto sidewalks and plazas. We type in security codes, swipe key cards, flash badges, disappear into awaiting buildings, up stairs or elevators, down corridors buzzing from tubular fluorescent bulbs. We enter offices, cubicles, conference rooms, flip on lights, log onto computers. We sit. We check calendars, scroll through emails, retrieve messages. We settle for another day, another chunk of our lives, wondering how it would feel to be free. 

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Peter J. Stavros is an author and playwright in Louisville, Kentucky. His work has been featured in literary journals, anthologies, newspapers, and magazines. You can find more at http://www.peterjstavros.com.