By: Eliza Mimski When I was a sophomore in high school, my English teacher returned an essay I wrote (don’t remember what it was about much less her name–crap!) with the word Majestic! written on top. At the time, I…
By Nasima Rahaman Some books are read; others are lived. Born of Clay: The Life and Art of Mala Pal belongs to the second category. I began reading the book without intending to finish it in a single stretch, but…
By Eugen Oniscu It was night. I was walking home, a little tired and sad, reflecting on the troubles in my family—my mother had remarried and was going through a very difficult time—on the film I had just seen, on…
By: KJ Hannah Greenberg Rising Moving upward might mean the sort of stretching that transportsUntold growth, or a curious progression.That is, going up can portend, i.e., can herald, favorable bases, orCan signify spiraling, dreadful outcomes. Standing higher, akin to North…
By: KJ Hannah Greenberg My home was littered with cats. There was Susan, Fluffy, Marigold, Tucker, Arwen, Denny, Nearly Spotted, Tito, Moonshadow, and Larry. Except, Tito had gone missing. I frowned as I scratched a mosquito bite on my right…
By: Snigdha Agrawal Moving: Simple because they can I asked Mafor a TV of my own,to watchWimbledon reruns,Netflix movies for teens.anything…just anythingto prevent from joiningcommunal watchingin the living roomwith familysimply coz.our tastes collide too oftenbut I saw her face stiffenbefore…
By: James Aitchison (pantoum) poverty is a form of worshipfrankly my dear I don’t give a damnnipped by a dog my old dancing bearthe furrows of disbelief (under a red rose tree) frankly my dear I don’t give a damnwe…
By: James Aitchison (After Alfred Lord Tennyson) Half a leg, half a leg,Half a leg onward,Moaning and rattling their chainsLimped the six zombies.“Forward, the Fright Brigade!Let’s feed on some corpses!”Hungry for human remainsLimped the six zombies. “Forward, the Fright Brigade!”Look,…
By: Tim Boiteau While waiting in her unfinished kitchen for the coffee to percolate, Anna Debeer’s eyes tracked across the peeling corn-colored laminate countertop, over all the cardboard boxes brimming with gadgets and mugs and spices, when the dream she’d…
By: Chanchal Kumar Das The Palace of Sleep All around, there is only discontent and hatred,People quarrel with people in uproar,Why have they not woken up yet?On all sides they have built a palace of sleep. Those who are truly…