Ember flares, breathe in. The crackle of ash tickles my throat, open your eyes, this wallow high never lasts long enough. This group I’m in feels dizzy–– none of my friends see straight morality twisting, turning birthing from our torsos, double helixes. Like staying in bed all day.
The painting hanging on the wall was unwelcoming and venerable with its twirling winds above the seaside as the thunder rumbled in the oil. The storm mounted above the tropical scene makes me feel small, useless, a flea in a flea market, escaping the harsh crescendo of noise. The mulberr
Yo Soy Latina, hija de inmigrantes, mujer de color, primera generación en los Estados Unidos, aquí desde el Sur. Chicas como yo no han sido escuchadas en esta institución predominantemente blanca. Mi piel puede llevarte por mal camino Mi acento y presencia es lo que aleja a todos Pero
By Julia Voyt Pages and pages of 12 size Times New Roman are bled across the paper feverishly, introductions and statistics under methods and conclusions. Not eating food and my bicep is smaller this week I talk faster to my family and I write, write, write. The earth outside smells different and sw
By Lindsay Jankowski Cookbook for life Imagine life came with a cookbook, chock full of suggestions and answers to all of life’s problems. Unsure how to approach your mom about changing your career? Consult page 552 on “mother-daughter conflict” for a step-by-step list. Think you’re going
By Gabrielle Crone Only a hillbilly would bring their injured dog to the vet using twine as a leash. At least that’s what our vet, Westley, announced when he saw my grandpa, Charles Bailey, in the lobby of the clinic twine leash in hand. Gizmo had injured his paw, most [&helli
