Faith in the Dark By: Vicky Wilkinson I would never wish my life upon you.Even after stitching these wounds,watching them close.I wouldn’t, no. Breathe.Breathe in the air of life.But where would it take me?Where would it take me? The chilled breeze runs across my face.I think I’d like to stay in this empty place.Hollow hills,…
Author: Editor Team
From Eden
By: Cole Grennen You’re here to find something, but you’ve gotten lost. The sun has begun to set, and your phone is dead. You forgot what you came here for, but it was important. You remember it was important, like the ghost of honey on your tongue. Do you wish to proceed? To the North…
“Other Girls and Womxn in Whom I SeeVersions of Myself:”
A Conversation with Poet Laura Read By: Johanna Deletti & Madison Bourguignon LAURA Read’s third poetry collection, But She Is Also Jane (Winner of the Juniper Prize from University of Massachusetts Press), was released in April 2023, delivering a sharp commentary on misogyny, shame, and many other facets of the female experience. In the context…
The Warmth Before Memory
By: Ariel Lee You are standing underneaththe willow tree. You are looking downa driveway at a house that used to be.The tree’s boughs are a great hoop skirtthat conceals a marvelous playhouse- aroom with vaulted ceilings that shiverin the wind and whisper to the childreninside. Next to the tree there is a foundation. The foundation…
Silence of Traslation
By: Cole Grennen TRADUTTORE, traditore. To translate is to betray. Translator and journalist Robert Bethune translated the old Italian saying, literally: “translator, traitor.” The saying highlights that translation betrays the intention of the original text. An audience reading a translation will never understand the meaning and the intention of the original. Translators inevitably alter a…
When It’s All Gone
By: Ella Downs “Are you hungry? What will you eat?” I turned with a start, bewildered to see a girl standing in my office. “How did you get in here?” The parameters of my building are surrounded with guards, the nation’s best. She shrugged and traced the edge of my desk with her finger. “It…
Yee Naaldlooshii
By: Addy Christmann Sat on the edge of the old red couch, wrapped in wool blankets head to toe, I relaxed into this place I’d been a thousand times. My black hair braided in two sections and curled around my neck as a makeshiftscarf in the questionably heated mobile home. The dark wood paneling started…
Ya Ritual’Naya Nevesta
By: Lauren MacDonald The woods are hungry and they must feed. It’s a custom we must adhere to. They border our village, a prison of sun twisted bark stricken with scorch marks, tightly packed like matted hair. Its branches arehands that demand and consume, scraping the sky in the tangled thousands, emerald in the warmth…
Wendigo
By: Erin Moine The sky wept metallic rain on the day Josie encountered the lump in the road. It simply hunched there; a brown, furry lump soaked by the rainwater. She slammed on the brakes of her old Chevy. The truck screeched as it struggled to a halt in the mud. The low evening light…
An American Werewolf
By: Stella Ramos Dear American Film Association, I write to you today to address your problematic portrayal of werewolves in cinema. Now, I can understand that, without meeting one, the concept of a werewolf might seem particularly novel. But the idea that someone could lose control and become an animal right before your very eyes…