TagProse

Prose by Elaine Nichols Art by Keira Innes Florian saw the boy, who was supposed to have already left, just as he was about to pass from the suburban area into the main part of town on the way to his cousin’s. He was sitting on the low wall outside the run-down, leaf-covered play park

Prose by Elaine Nichols Art by Monica Feng He’d have asked her to lunch sometime if she hadn’t walked into the food court and queued up in front of the char siu fan place perhaps ten metres in front of his table, pretending not to see him, whilst he coughed into his ramen in a

Prose by Hawthorne Nyberg Art by Nicole Ma (A Bending of the Metamorphoses after Ali Smith) I. Iphis woke late Wednesday, cast her eye around for her glasses, found them on the floor between the nightstand and the Durex box, laid back down.  Bed was a tangle of blanket, legs, a discarded sweater scrawled over

Prose by Sheena Jiang Art by Brian Lee i’m often angry at the idea that anything can be changed. that life changes–that i change–whether it is in the blink of an eye, or slowly, piece by piece, over a number of years. of course, there is nothing inherently evil about change. from common knowledge (and

Prose by M. Chiao Art by Maxine Gray We were the eyes in the windows as the car rolled into the barangay. Peeking through our curtains and staring at the sleek metal reflecting the sun, we watched as it squeezed into our small street like a wooden block shoved through the wrong shape. The white

Prose by Annabel Smith Art by Alex Hoang The blue dress was hanging on Lizanne’s wall across from her bed, the floaty one with the gathered waist that she’d worn to Mia’s wedding a decade or so prior. She would have to take it to the tailor and have it let out a touch if

Prose by Annie Wang Art by Adri Marcano It was a warm night.  It’d rained twice today, once in the early morning and again in the last hour. It was still drizzling when they’d left the restaurant, and no one had brought an umbrella. Sol had seen everyone into their cars, propped her arms up

Prose by Amaruuk Bose Art by Adri Marcano It has been eight hours and twenty-seven minutes since I killed Nathan and you still haven’t texted me back. This isn’t unusual—you’ve gone without texting me back before, sometimes for hours at a time when you’re busy, but never this long. And never after I’ve killed someone.

Prose by Lorelei McEwen Art by Natalia Mohar Disclaimer: This piece depicts the world through the lens of an autistic protagonist. It is my intention for this piece to foster understanding and acceptance of both autistic struggles and strength. This portrayal is based on my personal experience as an autistic person and may not ring

Prose by Nina Sky Robertson Art by Amy Ng It is October and Highway 19 is bordered by blackberries and stinging nettle, both past their prime and beginning to decay in the burgeoning winter.  We work for Glen, a mill subcontractor, burning slash piles that loggers left last winter. Sometimes the piles are huge, the

Prose by Samhita Shanker Art by Karen Zhang She holds an empty metal tumbler in one hand and a milk pot in the other, carefully pouring steaming coffee back and forth like a pendulum, pulling higher and higher each time. She knows he likes a thick layer of foam at the top and will complain

Prose by Amaruuk Bose Art by Amy Ng We were 15 and stupid and had skipped French class because we’d just learned about the concept of free will. We scraped together pocket change for drinks from 7/11, laughing giddily to ourselves as we paced the tiled floor unsupervised. We could get anything we wanted. We’d