by Jim Ross
To fend off doers of foul deeds I keep my bedroom door securely locked. The only one I cannot keep away is Death. Death carries a skeleton key good for every door. Tonight, he comes, inserts his key into the cylinder, and turns. The ancient lock rattles as cylinders grind and bolts release. Death shakes the door to scatter rust and align cylinders. Before Death nudges the door, my Beloved rushes to the balcony above the stairwell. From a flight above, she yells, “What the hell are you doing at that door? Nobody invited you. Get the hell out of here and don’t come back.” Death scurries off into the night, so shaken, he leaves his skeleton key behind. Breathe deeply and be grateful. Now be quick, hide that key.
Torso Bones
by Donald Patten
Jim Ross jumped into creative pursuits in 2015 after rewarding research career. He’s since published nonfiction, fiction, poetry, photography, plays, and hybrid in 175 journals on five continents. Publications include Burningword, Columbia Journal, Hippocampus, Kestrel, Newfound, Stonecoast, The Atlantic, The Ignaitan, and Typehouse. Jim and family split time between city and mountains.
Donald Patten is an artist from Belfast, Maine. He is currently a senior in the Bachelor of Fine Arts program at the University of Maine. As an artist, he produces figure drawings and oil paintings. Artworks of his have been exhibited in galleries across the Midcoast region of Maine.
Ignatian Literary Magazine 