Our second issue featuring an amazing collection of work.
We stand apart because/when we look into heaven we don’t see God with his glass eye swivelling/ we see each other/ disjointed trying to get out because/if we look too closely we’ll taste blood because/the last time you took me in your arms i shook
Poor mental health can keep us from writing. And yet it can also be the reason we write, to survive. To claw our way out of the sewer with our desperate words.
Everything we post on the internet stays there forever - except all that isn’t said. That is the basis of Calgary based author Vivek Shraya’s new novel, The Subtweet.
she is sunrise early morning coffee
by Rachel Shabalin The girl pulls the dial on the washing machine and watches the water bleed into the creases of her jeans. It’s one of those outdated models where the water jets out in a blade and the exterior echoes and pops when you sit on the lid.
High summer and the river’s opalescent blue again, but this year it’s more brilliant than I remember. The boys are already chest-deep in the middle of the slow water.
by Vina Nguyen The shadow sea, awash with blinking towers opaque and sharp as obsidian, greeted me from afar. The earth hummed, electricity filling veins beneath the asphalt. The burning stink was everywhere. I couldn’t decide whether I’d left the dead or found them. In my bloody hands