Poetry
by Natalie Bühler
Slide in for a bilingual swim, brain suddenly porous, Grammar shifts but lexicon remains, the sun casts The same net on the pool floor, Pebbles ...read the full piece >>Poetry
by Brianna Colmenares
I am Clara, I am Alice running circles in my pointe shoes the Dodo, and the Dormouse stare. The March Hare hounds her to stop. He is dizzy. Tweedledee ...read the full piece >>Poetry
by Elvis A. Galasinao Jr.
Thatched roof and bamboo walls of the nipa hut are tied down to the ground like a canopy tent. Whenever I see girls and boys… He drives metal stakes ...read the full piece >>Flash Nonfiction
by Laetitia Lesieure Desbrière Batista
I am eleven years old and I am sitting in art class. I recently moved to Paris and I am already not the small town girl I was just a few months ...read the full piece >>Poetry
by Ilias Tsagas
On the wooden floor, coiled with handcuffs and leg irons on like an embryo — dead. But no, slaves were shackled standing. Judging from the size of the ...read the full piece >>Poetry
by Olja Alvir
identity is a territory ever striving to describe the sea its roots in all the wrong places. on this plateau I am not lost though, i’m just a visitor ...read the full piece >>Poetry
by Yulia Tseytlin
Imagine: you dive into a lake on a hot summer day. Your feet rooted in the wooden springboard; its warmth supportive, caring. The clear emerald waters ...read the full piece >>Essay
by Chotiya Ahuja
I had an hour. Emerging out from the jet bridge, I saw the sky darkening with orange and red streaks at the horizon. In the terminal, it was bright ...read the full piece >>Poetry
by Eric Abalajon
After the break, Sally came back wearing a new outfit. She was greeted with applause. A black blazer, hair tied up, printed script in one hand, ...read the full piece >>Short Story
by Herman Kringlund
Guillermo sat leaning against the house wall and pretended to read as Julieta came walking down the gravelled main street of Guataca. She carried an ...read the full piece >>Short Story
by Wambui Waldhauser
Every Sunday, Ned did something with all his three children so that his wife could have a few hours to herself. He always did something physically ...read the full piece >>Poetry
by Nastya Kovalchuk
Disastrous December seemed like it was only a set piece of Russia in a Joe Wright movie — сardboardy birches and fickle affections, vodka fumes and ...read the full piece >>Poetry
by Caroline Kuba
There is sea-glass on the walls of my family’s cabin in the mountains, inherited from my grandma, living deep in the glacier glazed woods. She still ...read the full piece >>Essay
by Edith Cook
When your body is deprived of oxygen, it reacts in a number of ways. If the reason underlying the lack is unknown, you may embark on a wild-goose ...read the full piece >>Essay
by Wil-Lian Guzmanos
1. Amah taught us how to fold. First, it was a paper boat, then a ball. A frog, then a crane. Then a shirt with two slots for a pair of trousers with ...read the full piece >>Short Story
by J.B. Polk
The day Magnolia was born, my universe erupted into a thousand colours and turned into a dazzling impressionist painting. Now I’m not even sure if ...read the full piece >>Essay
by Maliha Khan
It was a Saturday morning which meant no school. Yet I had to get up early as papa disliked us sleeping in till late. Of course, I was annoyed at him ...read the full piece >>Short Story
by N.M.A. Zambrano
Dec. 25th, 2016 The Helicoid, Caracas 0800 “Look at me, papá ,” the pair of bright rounded eyes beckoned, full of the kaleidoscope of the afternoon ...read the full piece >>Flash Nonfiction
by Lorna Ye
When Dad was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, he lost not only his health but also his sense of humor. Dad was the funniest person I had ever known. ...read the full piece >>Flash Fiction
by Margit Marenich
This is what had happened, so the story goes. About a mother, her daughters and a grave, on which more than one beautiful flower still grows. “Good ...read the full piece >>Short Story
by Zosia Koptiuch
The first thing I find in the sea is a bottle. At first, I assume it’s trash, a discarded reminder of someone’s Sunday beach party or an empty vodka ...read the full piece >>Poetry
by Oana Nicola
1. Each waking, a gamble with my patience “You used to be so smart.” Now the brick wall’s done the cleanup job, not growing up but hollowing out. A ...read the full piece >>Short Story
by Angela Regius
we all contemplated suicide. we all hoped for euthanasia. we did not know what it meant: euthanasia. we never learnt the word. what we did hope for ...read the full piece >>Short Story
by Ines Rodrigues
“…I realized that our dislikes are as deeply ingrained as our better passions…” (John Cheever) Sarah’s Place restaurant became famous when the gossip ...read the full piece >>Essay
by David Gev
Fragments of Intergenerational Trauma Time and time again, I discover how I can't know what I don't know, and I can't see what I don't see until, one ...read the full piece >>Supported by:
