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
I function in Times New Roman size 12 font in speed walking for participation points in rows of plastic desks too small for textbooks  It’s a central part of me can’t be severed cause it’s leeched to the flesh of my brain  like that tiredness that lies behind my eyes the tiredness that [&h
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
By Emma Gail Compton I made the table I eat dinner at. The wood was cheap but sturdy. The stain I chose is a dark oaky red and makes the small round table seem more expensive than it was. One could find something similar at any store, but this table, my table, I made. I […]
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
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 […]
