Creative

Prose Swansong By Emily Olorin   I perch, trusting eyes locked with your own. I am achingly breathless in the blue that drowns me; I Ophelia, the curve of a lily at the bottom of a lake. A dove staring docile on the branches of a tree, giving its trust …

  By Carrie Lee   What I’m struggling with most of all Is finding balance Between truth and kindness  My brother is making an art gallery on the walls Carving his sixteen year old emotions into sculptures His hands are his tools Touching, Feeling The plaster, Making it his …

By Harriet Sim   Dear Death,   How can I satisfy you?   Do I not allow you hours of nightly torment?   Do I not lay my docile body out each night for you to infest and congest my fragile conscience?   You send surges of constraint around my …

  By Jeremy Sun They say home is where the heart is. My mother, my sister and I are visiting China. My father had visited the year before, and when he’d returned, he’d shown me all the photos he took, comparing them to photos he’d taken decades before. They were …

By Lydia Morgan   “So what actually is up with them?” my classmate Sophie wondered aloud, as we packed away our laptops at the end of class. “They’re basically trying to take over the world, hey?” The subject of this musing (and our conversation) was the great nation of Russia, …

[From the editors]   By Sharon Wong Cricket trills its song, Two a.m. scream of dark night, Morning talks of flight.   You are naked in front of the lone mirror in your apartment, a cheap white-framed glass that leans drunk against the span of wall between your front door …