by Olivia Baldacci
proven
Read More »Tag: culture
The Uncloistered Bird Feeder
by Chris Wardle
We’re back now
to GMT’s bleak Wintering,
breeding gratitude,
and an attitude for slow abundance,
within the assumed privilege
of doubly-blessed glazing
and insulated walls, isolating.
Winter’s Eye
by Caitlin Stratton
The doe’s ears stood out, illuminated by an orange glow. Further ahead, in the middle of a clearing, sat an uneven log cabin. Smoke rose from its chimney, and the origin of the orange seeped from a frosted window, showing off a burning fire inside. A small hand pulled the window curtains to one side, letting the light dance into the clearing, and a child’s eyes investigated the deer with a twinkle. The doe stilled, matching the child’s gaze.
Read More »lemon juice
French Press
by Megan Nicholson
I asked for this reality of living on my own, alone. Being alone means you are solely responsible for your quality of life, with no one else to rely on. And goddamn, I really need to clean these dishes. They’ve been sitting there for a week, and god knows there’s plenty more around this damn apartment that needs to be washed. I did the first half of the dishes yesterday; now I need this second half done so I can clean out Pepper’s litter tray. The poor thing’s open bathroom is filled with interwoven fur and hay and pellets. There’s so much to get done, and there’s still four hours before I need to get to bed and wake up for work tomorrow.
Read More »Arboreal Ghosts
by Brenda Mox
Haunted by arboreal ghosts
emerging from the forests womb
the solitary wanderer staggered along,
shaggy like a crow, with eyes wide open.
In Japan
Not the Last Catch
by Ibrahim Azam
O’Neill watched the sun peek over the horizon. The first of its rays had bled through the sky. Brady looked back at the village, shrinking out of sight as they pushed the johnboat further into the water.
It was a cold morning. The wind was callous, hitting both men in the face, spattering pockets of seawater with each strike. Unruffled, O’Neill began preparing the fishing rods. Three decades parading this ocean, he thought. And I ain’t letting some rookie slow me down.
Read More »Evening
by Eva Skrande
When the hush of the old town moves up the stems
of chrysanthemums,
the petals turn into small fires,
The Letter Contract of the “Civilised”
by Roukia Ali
“The Party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.” – George Orwell, “1984”
Before you are to be welcomed into the ranks of us Civilised people, we ask that you review the criteria of your adherence below. Failure to abide by and/or blatant infractions committed in regards to these articles will not go unpunished. Know that in either case we are just, good, peaceful people. We weigh all matters impartially, as is the responsibility of our faculty as the supreme holders of power. Yet to ensure the order by which these operations are made possible, we hold you in writing and in action to the same regard of compliance and critical thought.
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