With the constant ticking feed of bizarre news and breaking stories of nonsensical chaos, we are no strangers […]
“I feel no longing….”
“Hireath” by Nicholas Mcgaughey is a fitting conclusion to our Celtic Issue. Thanks for reading!
Along the wall opposite the bed, my books had been stacked in a six-foot-high pile. The Ivory Tower. Other than the bed, the room’s only furniture was a small desk and a wooden chair. My lair.
They tapped a cask of sherry—cozy is as cozy does— in a command post near Brunete.
In a different mood he was, and sat alone drinking Bushmills and stout, mumblingto no point in particular.
Though I bled a bit, a poultice was applied and soon enough, I dried.