Smiles are fake
And this isn’t paradise
We’re stubborn and cold
Counting working bars on the electric heater
And sputtering, drinking whiskey, to warm our
Bodies and we remain indifferent in conversations
Which shouldn’t make it passed these thick walls.
Continue reading “Train Wrecks by Mark McConville”
It took most of the evening, but three tenants from Block 6 finally broke through the barred door into the long-abandoned basement flat.
‘That’s it — we’re through,’ said Jack, the burly building manager. He wiped muck from his face as he lowered the sledgehammer to the carpet. Sweat clung to his chest like a bib.
Dust settled and the door lay in splinters before them. The beige apartment beyond was exposed. Continue reading “Square-Eyed in Block 6 by Darcy Lin Wood”
A whirlwind wails over barren, dusty carcasses;
Cavalry of ranked tombstones stretch over the graveyard
and shade over the dry, scorched sand. They mourn
the bodies cleared of soul, buried in the sand, unnamed;
Weep over the lost ones and grieve those who will not be born.
Such is the cost, measured and inevitable, of the past that is lost. Continue reading “Death is a thief by Aldas Krūminis”
“Do you remember-”
“Probably not.” A veiny, wrinkled hand smacks a veiny, wrinkled forearm, causing the speaker to cackle at his friend’s expense. His eyes crinkle further, eyes turning into small crescent moons, crows-feet becoming more pronounced.
“Shut up, you. I’m trying to be sentimental.” His friend adjusts her glasses, puffing out little bursts of air to show her disapproval. She tightens the shawl around her. He knew he’d never stop being in awe of her, even after all these years, so he just smiles and motions for her to continue. Continue reading “Plato’s Never Heard of Us by Lorenza Shabe”
Defeat fatigue’s cry that soars above you
High. Victory and loss are fleeing
Your purpose, now complete. Temporary.
You look above you at the blood-drenched sky
And reflect on the fate you struggled for. Continue reading “Triumph Has a Hard Shell by Aldas Krūminis”
We share this space, this
same space, occupied by you
and I. The same time,
identical air, the very light. Continue reading “A Rift in Our Continuums by Charlotte Ozment”
The American Lobster and the Yellow Snapper fish share a tank. In the wild, they will never have even known about each other but here in the aquarium, they’ve lived together for most of their lives. It’s said that they can both live over a hundred years, and some speculate that the American lobster cannot die of old age. This is a prospect the human spectators cannot imagine. Continue reading “Philosophy by Jen Hughes”