Category: Issues

Wash

ODESSA IKELS
Claire crouched in the cool wet sand, marveling at how the topwater surrounded the sides of her feet, small sandals abandoned behind her. The ocean roared in her left ear, cliffs invading her peripheral vision as she examined the place where the water meets the shore….Continue Reading Wash

Tell Me Again

AYANA ALLES
It is a strange thing, when a lifetime of memories consolidates into the tiles and sheets of a hospital room. The world narrows to white walls and blue curtains, beeps and cries, a persistent chemical stench. It’s not like there are gaping holes in my mind. It is more like: I do not know what is gone. Who is gone. I cannot miss them, so I do not feel an ache for their loss. Until they visit me. …Continue Reading Tell Me Again

Half Baked, Fully Burned

IZZY BAIRD
It was the night of our last party. Your parents didn’t care to see you graduate and your lease ended that Monday, so Friday night was the last time we piled into that one bedroom apartment. May’s heat felt like July and your AC was busted, so we panted like dogs while sitting around your TV, huddled in the smell of our sweat and cigarettes. …Continue Reading Half Baked, Fully Burned

Ithaca

AIDAN CAHILL
Someone jabs their thumb out on the side of the road. Olive green headband. Wicked shades. Early 20s, she’d be a model in New York, just a drifter out here. Who is she, anyway? Should be a bigger deal than this ragtag hippie straight outta Woodstock….Continue Reading Ithaca

Sempervirens

JUDE TAIT
A small child weeps as parents bury a bunny in the backyard. Hastily planted petunias stand vigil under a clouded sky as the tiny body disappears beneath the earth. The child can still feel the warmth of the bunny’s belly, can still smell the familiar comfort of its fur. …Continue Reading Sempervirens

고향 (gohyang)

HANNAH KWON
From above the bridge, you see half-frozen streams and hear the rush of water pulsating beneath layers of ice. And as if in immediate response, your body hums alive, blood rushing to your numb fingertips, the static-like buzz a reminder of how fragile the flesh you blanket over the thing that lurks inside of you actually is. …Continue Reading 고향 (gohyang)

Specks of Dirt

MARIAM BESHIDZE
She walked in and the smell of fresh grapefruits and magnolias walked in with her. Her head was bent: an overripe fruit hanging from a young tree branch. Her eyes searched the mosaic tiles of the floor. She seemed to look for an ancient map hidden in the crevices, but instead her eyes bore into the neatly accumulated specks of dirt…Continue Reading Specks of Dirt

&

MEL ARTHUR
it begins but doesn’t end with the earth, / only a memory you don’t keep / anymore,
because the first snow was / clouding your mind, my camera, the two / green chairs that surrounded us // even / my gloves that were on your hands / because I was cold but you claimed / your fingertips were colder…Continue Reading &

Turnabout

MIKE ROSENTHAL
For all it was his idea, the old man carried less of the body’s weight than me. We stumbled across sprawls of uneven roots and underbrush snares with it dragging between us. The creepers and ivy of the Forevergreen hung a few feet off the ground, neck level for six-foot bipeds. And there was only one animal like that in the region….Continue Reading Turnabout

The Tree

KIDANE PINCUS
The Tree stands atop a knoll amidst rolling, grassy fields; yet no grass grows upon it, its slopes bare and lifeless even in vibrant heights of golden summer. Its roots reach deep into the soil, worming their way through soft wet earth like eels, and its thick pale trunk rises high into the cloudless sky, its bark smooth and unblemished…Continue Reading The Tree

Untitled

OLIVIA LAW
Somewhere at 7:43 on a Sunday morning, two girls have collapsed into a web of limbs on a twin sized bed. Their wrists, each marked with a college grade stick-and-poke pine tree, press against each other….Continue Reading Untitled

Mango

A drawing of a mango.

BEA 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

Devour

BRIANNA 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 Note

OLIVIA 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 Cake

MACKENZIE 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