by Sarah Toney (This story contains suicide.) The air was thin and icy. Breathing it in felt like swallowing shattered glass. The city was beautiful from this height and the boy wanted to reach out and feel the warmth of the setting sun. The heaviness in his chest felt a…
A poem based on The Pale King by David Foster Wallace By Cynthia McGarvie An alfalfa breeze. Socks’ burrs. Dry scratching inside a culvert. Rusted wire incised in the sun all day until hardened, worms incised in the lead. A horse smells the worms incised in the wing, silent with…