by Jan Fallon | Fiction & Poetry
Identity In my attempt to write letters as C.S. Lewis did in his collection of The Screwtape Letters, it was easier to imagine what I thought demons would say, than how I thought C.S. Lewis would write. My writings are just a brush stroke where Lewis wrote murals. But...
by Jan Fallon | Fiction & Poetry
Campsite Six – Transit Chapter 1 The city stood erect and imposing. Crowds walled within its maze moved in streams of color and shadow, with an urban pulse coursing through each running, rattling member. Evie was one of them. Rushing through her morning routine...
by Jan Fallon | Fiction & Poetry
The Catechism of Emily Pry Chapter 1 Fall, 1962, St. Mary’s Academy The photograph under the headline, “Infant Missing,” captured Millie’s curiosity—and she had more than most. Scanning the elaborate room in the picture, she recognized it. The one with the curved...
by Jan Fallon | Fiction & Poetry
Pleasure In my attempt to write letters as C.S. Lewis did in his collection of The Screwtape Letters, it was easier to imagine what I thought demons would say, than how I thought C.S. Lewis would write. My writings are just a brush stroke where Lewis wrote murals. But...
by Jan Fallon | Fiction & Poetry
His Place PreparedHe swung the door wide openTo show me a place real fineCould you make a few changes, I askedThat is, if you don’t mindPlace a wingback chair, right over thereIn the corner by the stairsThat’s where she’d read her Bibleand say her morning...
by Jan Fallon | Fiction & Poetry
Simple stood on the stoop of his shop, wrist resting on the handle of a broom he often used, chin propped on top, watching people walk to or from wherever they were going or had gone. He welcomed the few nods and a seldom, “Simple,” given by those who knew him enough...
by Jan Fallon | Fiction & Poetry
Campsite Six – Black Bear Chapter 12 Dark, dusty clouds puffed up behind the crackling, curving tires as the park ranger drove slowly along the gravel road. It was 6:00 p.m., dusk, and he had to get his rounds in before sunset, then back to the station and...
by Jan Fallon | Fiction & Poetry
One to LightBlack as blue can beA dark cacophonyWhose very essence screamsits intent and hasteningA shrewd malevolence needsa place of mediocrityAnd found a spot in core and heartto rest its head and do its partAnd as its indentation layimpressing spirits not to...
by Jan Fallon | Fiction & Poetry
Breathing HopeThere are a thousand peoplewalking far and nighWith noses pointed north so faryou wonder what’s so highPeople watch, and tell the tale”Their heads are in the clouds”Really they just hope to seeup above the shroudBreathing hope pulls you...
