Apollo’s Revenge

  Apollo’s Revenge by Phillip McCollum This wasn’t the Italy of passionate opera, nor the Italy of Da Vinci and Michelangelo. Maybe it was the Italy of the Romans. Not that Private Hubert Bausman had half a clue about those guys. All he remembered were primary school tales of men in togas who turned Christians into lion chow. And …

The Monster in the Door

The Monster in the Door by Phillip McCollum Mom’s dark curly hair came first, then her round, large-frame eyeglasses, followed by the rest of her plump face. As she peeked through the doorway adjacent to my bed, I got a whiff of the perm she had gotten earlier that day. “Is everything alright?” She sounded slightly concerned. I hesitated for …

The Runner

The Runner by Phillip McCollum A man is a god in ruins. – Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nature They call this the land of the rising sun, but as I soaked in the rays of a full moon, I thought it was beautiful enough to have equal claim. Leaning against an uncomfortable boulder, I rubbed the sleepiness from my eyes …