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…
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I Wrote A Poem For My Best Friend’s Wedding
by Mike Cohen First of all, I have to thank Mrs. Popkin. I mean, Alice. I know, I know. I’ll try not to do that again, Alice. But it’s hard to call someone Alice who drove you to Hebrew class, not to mention dancing lessons, when you were a little…