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Open Road Review

Open Road Review
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Founded in 2011, Open Road Review has published 300+ writers from 23+ countries. The website has been accessed 3 million+ times, has 5000+ subscribers & has conducted 2 annual writing contests.

Postponed By Steve Klepetar

Your grief has been postponed on this glorious day, delayed by the sun's miraculous face and all those sheepish clouds. Dig another hole through the mirror's flat and...

April By Joan Colby

You feel the cold in April Uncompromising as a deadline You’d nearly forgotten. The coat Already mothballed. Premature As the desire to interpret The dream your lover must be...

Wintry Bouquet By Joan McNerney

This December during wide nights hemmed by blackness, I remember roses. Pink yellow red violet those satin blooms of June. We must wait six months before seeing blossoms, touch their brightness crush their...

Newborn Dogs By Laura Skeaff

The first night you stayed at my house you dreamed that dogs were giving birth in the mud You shuddered in your sleep You wept a little. I...

Cut By Anthony Liccione

I finally seen my father to my surprise at a Wal-Mart hair salon, with my son beside, blinking in long banes. I wouldn’t have recognized him, until I saw his name on the sign in sheet. He...

Audio

Now you can also hear some of our stories. Take note by Matt Tuckey Retribution Park by Rudy Koshar (with audio) The Luxury of a Pause by Kelechi Njoku (with...

DEW by Neeru Iyer

  A thousand suns On a single leaf, It amazes, stuns; But the joy is brief.   A diamond so tiny, Melts only too soon, Vanishes, oh, so slowly, Like the fading moon.   * Neeru...

Surrendering to Alcohol by Sonnet Mondal

  The Arabian Nights, Denver, Four Brothers and a lonely quivering peg curing the sores of nostalgia emerging from the breeze of a dry winter vanish like the ghostly...

My Father’s Closet by Luigi Monteferrante

  Makes no sense The clothes of a dead man In a dead closet   Store them for good Like he’s coming home Any minute now   Like he’s gone out for cigs Or...

The Other Side by Nalini Priyadarshni

I follow him stepping on his footprints. He is out there somewhere beyond the mist. I call out. Not sure whether its an echo that comes back to me or is it that he...

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