Isabel Montanari

“No one else could share his quandary. His agonies were a mixture of shame, of loss fueled by profoundly rooted fury—solitary burdens he had carried with him like pockets of sorrow weighing him down, forcing him to become stronger. When the Devil was gnawing at him, he’d withstood the pain.”
― Tom Baldwin, Macom Farm

“At the edge of the field Silva and Stefan witnessed heartrending images in greyscale as thousands of desperate refugees streamed down the road in leaden shades of melancholy.  This somber line of tired and dirty humans moved so close together that they jostled each other with each step; their random movements reminded Silva of corks bobbing in a slow moving stream.  They watched them pass from the side of the road, but eventually fell-in, trudging along with the suffering others, feeling safer in numbers, hoping for a destination worth finding.”
― John Payton Foden, Magenta

“Callum holds me tightly as we submerge under the water. Thin lines of air bubbles escape from his nose and mouth. He struggles to get back to the surface but to no avail—his heavy uniform and black boots weren’t meant for swimming.”
― S.G. Blaise, Proud Pada

“Moments from their life together flickered: their first time making love. Eating pizza on the floor of their city apartment. The way he gently laid his thumb to still her wildly twitching eye. Who was he now? Who was she? What was happening? … Yes, my partner is a thief. A thief in the night.”
― Amy L. Bernstein, The Potrero Complex