By: Adi Halved Sonnet Forget for once the nights,I ask of you, my love:Row these boats with me,Light rivers to above.You try—the moon you peelFalls and a sun revealsAnew’d colours to us, to love. ### Rain Days That Never Were…
By: Mehreen Ahmed Over the Hindu Kush Mountains, a bountiful, lush valley, existed once, famously known as The Indus Valley. Central to the Dravidian civilisation, this Indus Valley flourished by the River Indus, within the enchanting citadels of Harappa and…
By: Armand Silva The air of the cockpit stood still before the partition door slowly opened. A man walked in holding two mugs full of warm dark liquid, holding one out to his copilot as he settled into his seat….
By: Flora Jardine It’s fun to catch up with people from your past, such as those you knew at university. It surprises me to know what my erstwhile class-mates are doing today. The wealthy one raised in a mansion…
By: Ruth Z. Deming It happened a long time ago. Robbie Whalen, one of the popular kids at Shaker Heights High School was driving his new vehicle, a Dodge truck, rust-colored, and accidentally ran over a child. How do…
By: Maham Syed I was lying on my bed when I saw her standing in front of me. Her long jet black hair, dark brown eyes, and pale face with no emotions. She was walking towards me with slow and…
By: Annapurani Vaidyanathan 12 turns should do it, I decide,as I fiddle with the time-turner in my hand.I wonder if the speed might triple, were you in the same continent as me.Because, 365 days ago, before you chose to fly…
By: Rhienna Renee Guedry The work of production in book publishing is the work of white space and the imperceivable. To quote Joe Sparano: “Good design is obvious. Great design is transparent.” And yet it can be challenging to identify…
By: Leon Stevens Time of Day Sun on the horizon breaksThe birth of a dayAs the world awakesBirds stir Middle of the dayLifetime a world awayBrightness blindsUnless clouds hideBlue sky Life slowsDarkness growsA shroud of starsDrawn over the earthSleep until…
By: Vanessa Cutts It was a quiet Sunday in early May and Mrs Braeburn had just observed a small black darter dragonfly momentarily hovering around the cuckoo spit on the branches and leaves of a large Rosemary bush at the…