nycBigCityLit.com the rivers of it, abridged
Fiction
Spring 2007
Proserpine 1874, oil on canvas
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Blue Dahlia
Margo Berdeshevsky
She was humming Shakespeare's bawdy songs again. ...By Gis and by Saint Charity/ Alack n fie for shame/ Young men will do't, when they come to't, / by cock they are to blame...
She'd never had a prince. Read Story
André Karwath
Glory, Ananias
(an excerpt)
Eileen St. Lauren
One azure Sunday, Margie Anne Roberts and I went to visit Ananias.
"Ever drifted through the bar-like boles of Eden amid the firmament?" Ananias' words filled the room like a sculpture fills the stone. Read Story