Author: Every Writer
Richard Edwards has a BFA in Creative Writing and Journalism from Bowling Green State University and an M.S. in Education from the University of Akron. Managing editor of Drunk Duck, poetry editor for Prairie Margins, reporter for Miscellany, Akron Journal, Lorain Journal, and The BG News. He has also worked as a professional writer and editor in the medical publishing industry for several years. For the last 15 years Richard has also taught literature and writing at the secondary and post-secondary levels. He works much of the time with at-risk students.
What’s Happening at EWR!
Well things are happening so quickly around here, I thought I would take a sometime to tell you about exciting things going on here at EWR. We are making some big changes, and they are happening quickly, so here we go.
Continue readingLast Call by Arthur Mackeown
Damn undertaker. This coffin was built for a midget, not a six-foot two ex-rugby player. He must have stuffed me in with a shoe horn. And the heat. If anyone’s coming to rescue me they’d
Continue readingAll Tied Up And Nowhere To Go by Jaime Faulkner
The clang of metal against metal quickly snapped Olivia back to reality.
Any second now.
The footsteps got louder, and then stopped.
Continue readingThe Dead Tree by Lee Ann Petropoulos
The Dead Tree by Lee Ann Petropoulos There is a dead tree by the neighbor?s house.? Too close for comfort,
Continue readingDesert Kingsby Mike McCormick
Tanned arms swing from the windows of a bone-white vehicle. The truck rattles west, where the sun is bleeding all down the horizon.
Continue readingWhere Angels Fly Away by Valery V. Petrovskiy
An angel was flying over a town with its wings snow-white and fluffy. It fluttered above red tiled roofs and variegated chimneys. It hovered over some young folks with their eyes lifted up to the sky, and it was just a girl?s drawing. With her aureate hair and timid smile from above, Gala appeared like an angel herself: she was very tall, quite young and extremely shy.
Continue readingEnglish as a Home Language by Christopher Niemeyer
His last name was Krasowicz. His family was from Chicago though he had grown up in Guatemala, Honduras, Ecuador and Chile. Because of his dad?s various jobs. An interesting family background for someone who was now a chubby, mostly bald nobody, sitting alone in a seedy bar in the outskirts of Nowheresville, USA. Strangely, he remembered that disturbing incident from his college days. Alcohol was the key to bad memories.
Continue readingDream Catcher by Tantalus E
A child reaches her hand up into a glittering web. She is caught under a spell of shimmering strings made of threads so fine that they hum with music of the passing wind. It is as if you can almost hear the gentle sound of glass raindrops falling on blue and white crossed strings
Continue readingLoose Ends By Ronald Robert Moore
The ambulance screamed through the night. Its exciting lights flashing there red and white warning. When my eyes opened, I stared blankly into the gaze of an Emergency Medical Technician.
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