selected past writing at 42opus


How Santa Claus Came To Simpson's Bar by FRANCIS BRET HARTE

It had been raining in the valley of the Sacramento. The North Fork had overflowed its banks and Rattlesnake Creek was impassable. The few boulders that had marked the summer ford at Simpson's Crossing were obliterated by a vast sheet of water stretching to the foothills. The up stage was stopped at Grangers; the last mail had been abandoned in the tules, the rider swimming for his life. "An area," remarked the "Sierra Avalanche," with pensive local pride, "as large as the State of Massachusetts is now under water."

23 December 2007 | fiction, short story, classic


Postcard from a Nude Beach by RICHARD GARCIA

The waves, as if they were ashamed, roll up to it tentatively, and just before they reach the shore, they turn back.

30 January 2008 | poetry, prose poem



On the treadmill, he did not know if he was walking forward or backward. It was the same when he was stopped in traffic and the cars started to move and his car seemed to be drifting backward and he slammed on the breaks.

28 January 2008 | poetry, prose poem



At the Perkins School by LORI LAMOTHE

The poem about the sea

      speaks in braille

blue translated twice.

Sun wet light salt waves etc.

20 June 2008 | poetry

42opus is an online magazine of the literary arts.

copyright © 2001-2011
XHTML // CSS // 508