Stephen Laviera

“Paradise Lost” by Stephen Laviera

This narrative is a politically sensitive narrative. It comes from a place of mindfulness. Harboring a level of concern. Offering a change of perspective or possible resolution.Waking up before the sun has reoccurred so often. I now consider it to be the first thing on the itinerary of my morning routine. Aptly followed by five minutes of laying underneath the covers. Waking up while conjuring the mysticism that is motivation. As I hop into my boat. The routine is now a dubious unconscious flow. Yoga, light calisthenics, gratitude & medi...

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“In a Parallel Universe it Was Meant to Be” by Stephen Laviera

Submitted to Contest #244

In the story goes over a a miscarriage. Apologies to the reader if this upsets you.All the feelings, of all the memories began flowing at once from the scent of Brooklyn, my home. I cut across the street as one. To the other side of 21st. As I stepped back onto the sidewalk I felt my energy shift. Looking to my left I realized. I was at the front entrance to The Fiesta Building. Where I grew up. Hearing the wind come up through the tunnel to the back. Speechless as the memories calmed my eye site. Eddy holding the door open. While he, m...

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“Diary Of a Truth Seeker March 2066” by Stephen Laviera

Submitted to Contest #242

The early morning dew of Mother nature is ephemeral. The sun rises on its own timing. Never too soon, nor too early. An elderly man strolls merrily along an unbeaten path. Thoughtless though present he sighed with relief. Seeing the bench he always sits atop the summit. Where he’s watched the sun rise for the past fifty years. He chuckles with delight, finally comfortable in his uncomfortable dream.“Always pleasant when a vision comes from the beloved. I’ll be back in his bosom when I’m called.”     He sat in silence...

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“The Super Chronicles: Origin of Powers” by Stephen Laviera

Submitted to Contest #240

The night sky is beautiful, a cool breeze cuts through the darkness. Subtle highlights of purple and dark blue sweeping across the abyss. Making the stars seem to be within our grasp. Billy watched himself above the Cleveland skylight in Ohio. He gasped at the beauty of the night sky. Turning sharply to cross over the bridge leaving downtown. Sharpening his focus to see through the breeze kissing his cheek. Gliding faster he looks back as if he passed a meteorite followed by a stunning green. Stopping in mid-flight still gazing back and a vo...

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“Rock & Roll Is Dead: Goodbye Nancy” by Stephen Laviera

Submitted to Contest #237

To readers this story is centered around the death of a beloved matriarch. Stepping outside of myself to splash water on my face. Standing in front of the nearby hand washing sink. I won’t go back into myself. The voice of doubt sings ever so gently. Causing my nerves to dance to its melody. Its voice echoes through my body. The vibration bouncing off my aura. Making the hair on my back do the wave. ...

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“Let's Get Something to Eat” by Stephen Laviera

Submitted to Contest #236

 Silence in its powerful glory. Calms the mind's complexities. Transforming the rigorous clamor of thoughts. While easing the tumultuous current of feelings. With his palms open on his knees. Rocco sits in lotus pose. Breathing deeply only to relax on the slow exhale. On the floor in front of his desk. In the still darkness of his office. Shave and a hair knocks on the door. Manipulating the silence. Awaken...

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“Living On Without You ” by Stephen Laviera

Submitted to Contest #235

Maligned by how today unfolded. Accepting events as they come. For as they are. Had in ways been ferocious to control. Making a valiant attempt to withstand and bear them. Splashing water again on my face. Feeling as if I’ve been asleep the past few days. My perspective has come unraveled. I only remember excerpts.       My younger brother Scott barrels through the men’s bathroom door. The ginger man mountain codd...

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“Love, True Story” by Stephen Laviera

Submitted to Contest #233

The train ride back to East Village was a blur. Unconsciously my feet were doing the guiding. I lit a smoke a few feet from the door to the building. Concentrating on my breath in between hits from the fumo. Fumbling around in my pocket for my keys. Zonked out going through motions. Aware of my being emotionally drained. Not even completely inside the door and my phone starts blowing up. “Can’t this day e...

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