selected past writing at 42opus


The Things the Play by O. HENRY

Being acquainted with a newspaper reporter who had a couple of free passes, I got to see the performance a few nights ago at one of the popular vaudeville houses.

One of the numbers was a violin solo by a striking-looking man not much past forty, but with very gray thick hair. Not being afflicted with a taste for music, I let the system of noises drift past my ears while I regarded the man.

13 March 2008 | fiction, short story, classic


a thin skin by PATRICK M. PILARSKI

of snow dust

on pigeon shit

at the end of another year

20 September 2009 | poetry


edges by KRIS T. KAHN

lately i am fascinated with lines,

with the edges of things:           where i end

and where the world begins.

2 March 2003 | poetry


Requiem for Sammy by MAAZA MENGISTE

The day her husband died, her period stopped. It just shut itself off and left her, left the blood building and boiling inside, fermenting into this rage that she could only release at the piano. It wasn't supposed to happen like that…

2 July 2006 | fiction, flash fiction


from A Song to David by CHRISTOPHER SMART

Strong is the horse upon his speed…

2 June 2004 | poetry, classic, rhyme

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