by Ian C Smith Photographers can be both artists and conservationists. When we see images of old or departed folk bathed in light in family albums – how young you look – so slim – that hair – pangs of sadness are gladdened, too, as we hustle to remain ahead…
by Karen Mandell The heavy-duty plastic crackledas I shifted my weight on the couch.Straight ahead, in front of the window,a fake lemon tree pretended to need the sun.A soon to be ex-boyfriend snickeredwhen he saw it. I agreed with himbut hated his condescension. I wasn’t upfor analysis but loved the…
by Quiarah Butler Coll bolted straight up, sweat-drenched and shivering. She was sitting naked on her bedroom floor, thick vines wrapping her like ribbon. Her feet were caked to the ankles in mud and silt. “Damn it! Not again,” she groaned. She’d been sleepwalking again. Fifth night in a row….
by John Gregory Evans This story contains suicide and sexual assault. For some life hangs in the balance. Living in the shadows is never easy. Life after Military Sexual Trauma is not easy, either. But some of us reach that ideated pinnacle where suicide and attempts become an everyday experience….
by Marie Soffy Saint Fort Dancing over the edge of a cliff,cliff of a deep, deep oceanon a busy summer day,where surfboards and waves crashing.Peacefully crashing ashoreinto beautiful lullabies in our eardrums.That’s what my trauma sounds like. Sweet howling of the branchesas they move their hips side by side;while their…
by Dan Richardson I first saw the Body in the doorway. I stopped when I saw it, my hands holding tight to my backpack, the straps cutting into my shoulders. The other people walked by without looking at it. Cars glided by, hissing through the puddles and sending icy jets…
by Quiarah Butler Manga and Anime convention goerthe age of knowledge grows on me and feedsmy soul, my energy, my mind, the part of methat says “this isn’t blackness; this isn’t cool”but in this new age of Black-awareness, it’s growing on me Gothic aesthetics and music shape my foregroundI’m not…
by George Freek I stare at my unmade bed.Outside, a chilling breezerustles the dead leaves,as if they were feathers.The moon is a ball of lead.I gaze at distant stars,lost in the infinite sky,as if they hadnowhere to abide.A torn shirt, hanging froma tree, waves in the breeze,like an abandoned flag,now…
by Nancy Machlis Rechtman She feels her way through the dappled landscapeCradling the memories of a time when it was filled with lightAnd hopeAnd dreamsInstead of this endless echo chamberOf lonelinessWhere she now resides. The sun has yielded to the moon’s prowessSinking slowly across the Western skyBut this is no…
by Dakota Jackson The Office of Eternal Collections—better referred to as purgatory, both literally and figuratively, especially to Luci—is becoming quite hectic these days. As the head of the Decisions Department, Luci, (known in his past first as Lucian and later as Lucifer), is in charge of the recently deceased….