Perspective by Cailey Tarriane
All the medicines look the same. And the lollipop wasn’t perfect. But I know that’s not the only reason why
A Magazine Of Fiction And Poetry
All the medicines look the same. And the lollipop wasn’t perfect. But I know that’s not the only reason why
Carl is not a true paraplegic, but he believes he is. Twenty-one years ago, Carl stopped walking and joined a
A young woman kept on the leash by two big white dogs seems to sail past my window dogs, leash,
The cloud stretched out in streaky veins Beneath the morning sun, Or else, perhaps, like streams from rains In days
listen then to the heavy tread in darkened halls slow and heavy as moments preserved in amber or specimens in
Someone threw a stone at the almighty darkness. A chord was struck and they coloured it blue. Sky-blue, eye-blue, blue
Water fire earth and wind the four elements pulsing to nature’s heartbeat to rhythms only understood by the musician perched
Primrose arrived in the city at dawn, a mid-to-high-end extra-tropical cyclone, marking the high point in that year’s northern European
Dear Elizabeth, I’m hiding, writing this under a tree, using it for cover. My mother’s calling me: “Theresa! Thereeeesaaaaa!” Her voice
If only I were dirt poor and living in a garret, getting by on canned beans and the occasional soupbone.