Author: Debra Bishop

Free Verse Story Poems 0

Esther – Part Two

Free Verse Story Poems   Esther pinched her shearling’s collar tight to her neck, stood dazed and stared at the grey pavement before her as if it were possible to pull up and fold the...

free verse story poems 0

Esther

Free Verse Story Poems   Esther had not gone to bed that previous evening; instead she went into the bathroom and took a whore’s bath. She washed her face and neck, brushed her teeth,...

Reflection Poems 0

What Hope There Is…

Reflection Poems   Alas my father, Lo my mother, Alas my brother, Lo my sister, I come. No lies to tell, No self to hide, No expectant bites can tame me. No illusions as...

Narrative Poem 0

Sex Talks

Narrative Poem   A man came up to the right side of my tent which was perched a few feet from where I had stuck my fishing pole at the water’s edge. His shoulders...

Free Form Poem 0

The World Before

Free Form Poem   I married young before I knew the world, before I knew how to hide my nakedness, my innocence and before I stopped accepting the unacceptable. My husband was a small...

stream of consciousness Narration 0

Daughter

Stream of Consciousness Narration   Once again she fingered the photograph and took it up from off the leather topped mahogany desk and stared. There, right there, in those hazel eyes, the thing that...

Consciousness Stream 0

Dream Repeats

Consciousness Stream   Alone in my cold bedroom while sleeping and dreaming sometimes hellishly dark images would come in repeating frequency, for some twelve years from age seven to my late teens. The haunting...

Stream of Consciousness Story, Indoors Photography 0

Walking Beside Her

Stream of Consciousness Story   The smell assaulted her senses like a river of floating, twirling turds. “What? Where is that stink coming from?” the woman in the leather sandals asked. For half a...

Free Verse Poem 0

Dawn Rising

Free Verse Poem   In Jackson dawn rises as slowly as a weary, puerperal mother. The sky is a deep, pale azure hidden just above the tree line. With expectant pride it hovers over a...

short realistic fiction stories 0

Flying to Memphis

Short Story   Racing through the congested streets and onto the whirling Grand Central Parkway with a world of iniquitous hurting nymphs at my back, I drove like a demon on fire in an Indiana...