Fiction Author: Isabelle B.L

The bowl brimmed with orange, purple, and red prickly pears. Now that I was ten, I scraped the barbed tips with a knife and shaved the skins. But Mussolini and Hitler spoiled my appetite. A slippery red prickly pear landed in the middle of their black and white faces, smothering their partnership with juices and …

Competition Ten Shortlisted: Prickly Pears Read More »

The second he: “It’s called the Intertropical Convergence Zone.” “The what?” “When the northern and southern winds come together around the equator, giving us March’s brief summer.” Fancy summer lasting only two weeks.   The first he: Before I met the first he, I sat on my porch watching summer rain collide with dry earth, …

A New Season Read More »