poetry
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This short story was the First Place Winner in the “Historic Fiction” group of the NYCMidnight Writing challenge. Limited to only 500 words, the judges had this to say about the piece: “It uses the motif of music expertly” “The writing is beautiful, vivid and poetic, with a sharpness.” “I found the twist to be
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Burnout doesn’t knock politely. It crash-lands in your inbox like a flaming email chain where everyone is still hitting “Reply All.” And if you’re a lawyer, entrepreneur, or philanthropist (or worse – some mutant cocktail of all three like me), burnout isn’t a risk, it’s practically a job perk. We spend our days juggling statutes,
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Where the citations weep, and the subtext sues for emotional damages This is not a poem. Not in the traditional sense. There is no meter here, no rhyme, no stanzas. Just a body of text so plain, so devoid of soul, it could’ve been written by the IRS. And yet – beneath it – buried
Brian Brijbag 