The Indicator
PROSE
- DevourBRIANNA ZHANG
It is baffling that these people garner millions of likes, considering how they spend twenty four hours like it’s nothing! Sleeping through a third of the day—unbelievable. Ten minutes of meditation? It took me one hour to complete university……Continue Reading Devour - Lunch-Box NoteOLIVIA TENNANT
Good cooking requires time and patience – neither of which my mother has. Born and raised by Chinese parents in New York, aggression, assertiveness, hostility, hard work, and short-temperedness are inherent personality traits built into her blood. My mother stops for nothing in order to achieve success. Except for in the kitchen. …Continue Reading Lunch-Box Note - Spiced Apple CakeMACKENZIE DUNSON
The last thing my mother made for me was an apple spice cake. She always took pride in it because of the expansive apple tree that was the luminary of our backyard. It has always been the most beautiful thing about our house. The branches reaching for the sky, leaves and breath filling my own lungs, its fruit filling my stomach, and its blossoms filling my mind….Continue Reading Spiced Apple Cake
- MangoBEA AGBI
I didn’t want the mango. I didn’t / want it I was full Just let me have a bit / but my mother said no bites, / peeling and putting it / into my hands, yellowredgreen soft / and malleable in its ripeness, eat / the whole thing. …Continue Reading Mango - family dinner: still life in silence and saltHANNAH KWON
and this salt would spread quickly, like grief / always does, trickling into red pepper paste / and flakes of anchovy skin, salt desecrating / the soup we’d double-dip our spoons into, / so when metal met our lips, …Continue Reading family dinner: still life in silence and salt - Rose Colored BoxesRUTH ZURAW
Our morning-stretched shadows / graze, overlap on the pavement— / heat curling around calves / in gentle waves. …Continue Reading Rose Colored Boxes
POETRY
Recent Events
Featured Fiction
PRISCILLA LEE
She opened her mouth and I knew her immediately, tiger-stripe highlights, grown-out gel nails, Casetify phone strap, four Target bags. She came up to me at the bus stop, said, “Hi! Excuse me, I’m so sorry, but is this stop for the bus that’s going to UMass?” and I knew, immediately.
Art Gallery
Learn more about our previous art pieces here!
Featured Poem
ELLA LIN
and she peels me
another mandarin. i imagine
we must look strange,
our mouths dripping juice like broken faucets
into the night. her black hair
falling further, with nothing below…
