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…
by Devon Marsh This is the kind of fire that will go completely to ash. No remnants of oak left in the morning when I sip coffee, rest my hand on warm bricks, and our eyes share a smile acknowledging how flames moved together and made sounds.
