WELCOME TO OPUS LITERARY & ARTS MAGAZINE
WELCOME TO OPUS LITERARY & ARTS MAGAZINE

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. Â

I visited a nursing home three weeks ago  and this might sound awful  scratch that this is the worst thing I have ever said  and probably the worst thing I will ever say   every single person in that building was already dead. There were corpses rotting from the inside out being sat in front [&h

Up is like down when I lie on my back: hang my head off the bed, stretch my legs up as high as they’ll reach on the cool wall. Hear my mom warn that the moisture from my toes will tarnish the paint. Do it anyway. Let my arms dangle down till the skin stretches […]

THE FACES BEHIND THE MAGAZINE

By Fara Ling Ah Ma,        A few weeks ago, I realized I have never written Ah Ma a letter. That means I have never told Ah Ma I love you. There’s no way to say it in Hokkien, Ah Ma’s mother tongue. Forcing the syllables wa ai lu to sit next to […]

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

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