Category: Creative

  • In Between the Current

    In Between the Current

    —

    by

    Madhumitha Shankar, edited by Yunya Wang
    in ,

    There is alwaysa quiet leaning forward, as if the world itselfis slightly tiltedtowards what comes next. You feel itin the way footsteps quickenwithout noticing,in conversations that drifttowards tomorrow,in the constant, careful measuringof where you areagainst where you should be. It hums beneath everything,this need to move,to become,to arrive. And you follow,because everyone does. Because stillnessfeels…

  • The White Rabbit Got Me: it didn’t have tails or ears, just a screen and a home button

    The White Rabbit Got Me: it didn’t have tails or ears, just a screen and a home button

    —

    by

    Riya Shrivastava, edited by Yunya Wang
    in ,

    The world felt silent and Alise felt restless. She pondered the last time she felt like this but it only brought her memory back to tiaras, barbie shoes and small muddy hands. Such a stillness should be in debt with peace…

  • The waves will beat against the shore

    The waves will beat against the shore

    —

    by

    Elizabeth Poulos
    in ,

    The waves will beat against the shore always. They whip and lull me away, wrapping me in seafoam tendrils; always. Tender instruments of fate, of salty blue, jade green, and murky grey; they take me softly and warmly,  Sometimes,  Other times harshly, burning me from within like ingested sulphur.  The waves will beat against the…

  • Nine Lives and the Limits of One

    Nine Lives and the Limits of One

    —

    by

    May Tleis
    in ,

    In moonlight whispers, cats with nine lives dance, Their paws tread lightly, giving fate a chance. Each leap a new beginning, each purr a hopeful sigh, Yet I, bound by a single life, watch dreams slip by.  A feline’s gaze, both ancient and wise, Yearns to chase stars, to reach for the skies. With every…

  • Searing Heat, Silent Ashes

    Searing Heat, Silent Ashes

    —

    by

    May Tleis
    in ,

    The sun, a ruthless eye, bleeds over rooftops and blankets the streets in the fire of its gaze— scorching the dust, where children once played. Their laughter now swallowed by the jaws of guns.  Beneath this sky, the ground is a silent witness. Cracked lips that murmur the prayers of the fallen. Their bodies like…

  • The Indigo Man

    The Indigo Man

    —

    by

    Sienna Barrientos
    in ,

    Beware the Indigo Man!  Phantom of the Coatepeque!  Whose face ripples like jaded algae  Folds like lake-foam –   Is fermented under sodden banana leaves.   Be fearful of the Indigo Man!  Who salivates beneath canoes,  Sneering at plump fishermen  With iron hooks   And iron souls  Whose bile reeks of ichor  Gory as corn pudding.  Do not…