Marcia Calhoun Forecki graduated from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee with an MA in Latin American Studies. She teaches English as a Second Language, and works full-time as a paralegal in Omaha. She has published 2 books, and several short stories and is currently an editor with Fine Lines Literary Journal.
Canción de Fermín
Fermín Calderón accepted that his actions caused his brother-in-law Tavito to die. Accepting responsibility was the first step toward being forgiven. As a child in a village outside of Acapulco, Fermín heard the priest explain repentance and forgiveness. “First you must admit what you have done. Confess your sins. Only then may you ask to be forgiven.” He buried the words in his heart. Read more.
Me and Woody
Nobody loved Woody more than I did. I adored the silky feel of his curly, copper hair. The rough creases on his hands were wild terrain for my fingers to explore. He loved me to scratch his back when he was tired and massage his shoulders when they were sore. Woody was a lean, solid man and if he didn’t have the biggest brain in the county, it didn’t bother me any. He was a genius with engines with his hands generally, and that was enough for me. I loved him first and best. Read more.