volume 4, issue 1 winter, 2005



Buddha by Christopher Novak

Winter Solstice Issue


FICTION

Yvonne Chism-Peace
CLOSE ENCOUNTERS

Patsy Covington
THE HOMELESS GUY ON CARONDELET

Jnana Hodson
ALMOND PASTE, SUGAR, AND CREAM

Abha Iyengar
JAGGED EDGES

Cory Fosco
SMALL SAND STORMS
POETRY

Kathleen King
READING

Anthony Adrian Pino
OASIS

D. B. Cox
BEAT

Ralph Malachowski
BRAHMARANDHRA

Ken Pobo
MONITORS

PROSE POETRY

Rafael Jesús González
MOON IN SPACE

Rafael Jesús González
LUNA EN EL ESPACIO

Jonette Stabbert
SUICIDE WEATHER

PHOTOGRAPHY

Christopher Novak
COVER: Buddha


But Gerty was adamant. She had no intention of being at their beck and call. If they could run like rossies she could sit so she said she could see from where she was. The eyes that were fastened upon her set her pulses tingling. She looked at him a moment, meeting his glance, and a light broke and upon her set her. Whitehot passion was in that face, passion silent as the grave, an it had made her his. At last they were left alone without the others to pry and pass remarks and she knew he could be trusted to the death, steadfast, a sterling man, a man of inflexible honour to his fingertips. His hands and face were working and a tremour went over her. She leaned back far to look up where the fireworks were and she caught her knee in her hands so as not to fall back looking up and there was no-one to see only him and her when she revealed all her graceful beautifully shaped legs like that, supply soft and delicately rounded, and she seemed to beat the panting of his hear, his horse breathing, because she knew too about the passion of men like that, hotblooded . . ..
                                 JAMES JOYCE, Ulysses, p. 299., 13/685-700


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