Taste | Jaya Avendel

First day of flurries

Wood smoke and citrus make up

Bronze winter whiskey.


Jaya Avendel is a word witch from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, writing family into fantasy through poetry and prose. Her work has been published here at Whispers and Echoes, Visual Verse, and Spillwords Press, among others. She writes further at ninchronicles.com

Sideway Snow | Mark Tulin

My soul buried deep in the jaws of a blizzard

My heart yearns for a fiery hearth,

flannel-lined pants to lessen the chill,

insulated boots to keep the frostbite at bay,

and a furry hat to protect my chaffed pate

 

I keep trudging, or I’ll lose my faith

A clear sidewalk is my only salvation

A promise that Spring will be arriving

Sideway snow pummels my face

As I tangle with nature’s snowy fate.


Mark Tulin lives in California. He has authored Magical Yogis, Awkward Grace, The Asthmatic Kid and Other Stories. He has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and featured in Vita Brevis, Amethyst Review, Ariel Chart, Active Muse, among others. Follow Mark at Crow On The Wire and Twitter, Crow_writer.

Winter Stars Shine Brighter | McKenzie Richardson

They’ll tell you of earth’s rotation, the proximity of stars. As if science has all the answers.

But I know.

Scales gleaming with pearly light, the ivory dragon bedecks the sky, its body made of starlight. Frost spreads beneath each breath, dancing designs onto every surface with the fresh, clear scent of its ancient soul.

If you look into the whites of its eyes, you’ll see the beginning of time, an age long before science. Believe what you will about why the stars shine more brightly in the winter months.

But I’ve seen the dragon. I’ve looked into its eyes.


McKenzie Richardson lives in Milwaukee, WI. Recently, her work has been featuring in various anthologies through Black Hare Press, Iron Faerie Publishing, Dragon Soul Press, and Eerie River Publishing. She has also published a middle-grade novel, Heartstrings, as well as a poetry collaboration with Casey Renee Kiser, 433 Lighted Way.

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/mckenzielrichardson/

Blog: http://www.craft-cycle.com

 

Let Go | Jaya Avendel

Summer wine chilled in snow

Dried flowers and beeswax candles

Moonlight in your cups.


Jaya Avendel is a word witch from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, writing family into fantasy through poetry and prose. Her work has been published here at Whispers and Echoes, Visual Verse, and Spillwords Press, among others. She writes further at ninchronicles.com

Winter evening | Goutam Dutta

An early sunset…

Curled in front of a lit fire

Beggar and stray dog.


Goutam is passionate about poetry and writes whenever and wherever something or someone touches his heart. He lives in Kolkata, India and writes poetry in English, Hindi and Bengali language. He has published two books on English poetry named “Hues of Life” and “Glimpses of life”.

Blog: straightfromtheheartgd.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/goutam.dutta.7169

Whispers and Echoes Flash Fiction and Poetry Index | December 2020

The majority of December’s poetry and flash fiction was submitted specifically to two themed calls: Extended Editions 2020 and Winter 2020, but there were a few general submissions too – and we enjoyed reading each and everyone of them.  We’ve decided to add the Extended Editions theme to our list of yearly calls, along with a haiku only call, as both of these seemed popular with contributors. It won’t be long before we are opening our next themed call, Spring 2021, so keep an eye open for that.

To see what we shared – or what you missed – in December, check out the links below.  Enjoy!

To submit your own writing to the journal, please check out the submissions guidelines here.

Poetry

Flash Fiction

Steam Vent Vapors | Mark Tulin

The homeless guy I pass on my way to work

has a collection bowl between his legs,

looking up with teary eyes,

saying the good lord is watching over me

as the steam vent vapors rise in February

 

Something in those words mattered

as I bent down and gave him some change,

waiting at the bus stop in the snow,

I hear his voice, his lonesome plea:

please spare a dollar for a cup of coffee.


Mark Tulin lives in California. He has authored Magical Yogis, Awkward Grace, The Asthmatic Kid and Other Stories. He has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and featured in Vita Brevis, Amethyst Review, Ariel Chart, Active Muse, among others. Follow Mark at Crow On The Wire and Twitter, Crow_writer.

Wishing you season’s greetings…

I would like to take this opportunity to wish all our readers and contributors a safe festive season and all the best for 2021!

My thanks to everyone who has supported this little online journal this year.  Although we’ve been going in one form or another for a few years now, 2020 saw us evolve and grow into the supportive and encouraging space we’ve become. And I couldn’t be happier with the result.

Between now and Sunday 3rd January 2021, Whispers and Echoes will be quiet, but rest assured we will back on Monday 4th January 2021 as we continue sharing the rest of the submissions we received for our winter theme.

During this time, we will remain open to submissions. So if you want to start 2021 with some publication news, and you have any poetry in 10 lines or less, or flash fiction of 100 words max, that you wish to send us, please do – but check out the guidelines first ;-). All submissions received as of the publishing of this post, have been responded to. January’s posting schedule is now full and we are beginning to schedule posts for February.

Merry Christmas!

Sammi

Fresh Snow | Frank Hubeny

Jim woke from his dream with a message: “You’ve got ten years, maybe eleven. Count on no more.”  The “ten years” gave him hope he’d get through this winter after a fresh foot of snow last night piled onto two already out there.

Across the road Jim heard Beatriz scream at her dogs. He considered yelling, “Merry Christmas, Beatriz!”  But he’s been there, done that, and wished he hadn’t.

With only ten years left Jim felt he might as well plow the drive to her cabin, round up her dogs, and see if she needed other help with the snow.


Frank Hubeny spends his time between Miami Beach and Northbrook, Illinois.  He has appeared in The Lyric, Snakeskin and Ancient Paths Literary Magazine.  He regularly posts poetry, short fiction and photography to https://frankhubeny.blog.