Don’t Fly Away, Paloma

by Sophie McNulty
I glance at my room from my bed and receive an indistinct image, as I rest here contemplating the complications I must confront. My life once was simple; lacking crisis and degeneracy, however in the past few weeks these qualities I had assumed a reality disappeared abruptly. I sigh, bury my head into my pillow and weep silently.

double face

by Altana

the clicking
of computer keys
is what passes
for speaking
these days.

Sticks and Stones

by Altana

people tell me
sticks and stones
may break
my bones
but names
will never hurt me.

The Plum-Colored Train

by Sofia Johnson

Back when my sister Eva and I had Halloweens that involved trick-or-treating and normal kid stuff like that, she always got the Midnight Express Extra Darks, on account of she was six and I was three, so I really didn’t have any say in the matter.

Nicky

by Carly Sorenson

When I met Nicky she was wearing a wig, a black, tangled mop with streaks of orange glitter. I guessed that that was her costume; we were at a Halloween party, after all.

Francophilia

by Lauren Crawford

There is an expression in French that hints at the indefinable. It flows off the tongue at a rhythmic pace- je ne sais quoi- je ne sais quoi, je NE sais QUOI; the seductive tone of the French language already seems to indicate what the words themselves mean.