Featured Writing

Cell phone on an unmade bed

An unsent drunk text during no contact

by Jason Grant The entire king-sized bed is mine now, but I can’t seem to move from the left side to the right because on the nights you were here—laying there—if I dared move from my side to yours in the middle of the night it was like I-was-crossing-some-boundary you-needed…

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Author Archive

I Think A Lot

by Carli Chisenall I think a lot. I think a lot about death. The soft whisper of a soul, finally escaping its prison of flesh and sin. That one last exhausted breath. Solace, at last. I think a lot. I think a lot about life. It is everything and nothing….

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