by Christian Velilla (This story contains attempted suicide.) I find myself in that icy corner of my room, with my body lost in inaudible sobs and tears that I only feel running down my cheeks, but they are nothing more than vivid flashes of my imagination; like little diamonds that…
by Sarah Ockershausen Delp The table is set for company. The florescent shine off the faucet is deafening. She’ll teeter in, whisking the tiles in tiny steps. Click clacking in her vintage heels as soon as the bell ting-tings on the oven. I’m cooking inside. It smells of rosemary and thyme, roasted…