Table of Contents
Editor's Notes
Submission Guidelines

Stories & Essays
By Alison Baumy
Contemporary Cultural Differences...
_ By Ninni Siurua
Eclipsed Yesterdays
_ By Clyde Windjammer
Healthy Guy
_ By David J. LeMaster
Immortalis Letum
_ By Sophie Davis
Last Call For Salvation
_ By Angela P. Markham
My Fault
_ By Ro Thorton
Pacific Northwest
_ By Aaron Hellem
Q-Q Ca Choo
_ By Billy Pilgrim
The Best Laid Plans
_ By John A. Ward
The Ecstasy of Cooking
_ By Sam Nolting
The Girl With the Green Umbrella
_ By J.R. Earlebeck
The Gods of Houston
_ By Rebekah Frumkin

Athena's Owl
_ By Amberly Mason
But I Have Never Known This
_ By Kaleen Love
Clouds On Your Floor
_ By Savannah Bobo
Crowded Lobby
_ By M. Blair Spiva
Ever After
_ By Bennie Johnson
Important Questions
_ By P.T. Bell
_ By Sarah Wassberg
Moon Goddess
_ By Kristina Diane Smith
Oldest Profession
_ By Ashley Polker
On Visiting Hay-on-Wye
_ By M. Blair Spiva
Sodom and Gomorrah
_ By Jessica Fannin
_ By P.T. Bell

Art & Photography
Jeremy Harker
_ Paintings
Douglas C. Knight
_ Photography
Jed Knox
_ Paintings and Drawings
May Ann Licudine
_ Paintings
Danny Malboeuf
_ Paintings
Alex Stanbury
_ Photography

Immortalis Letum
By Sophie Davis

He screamed but it didn’t help.

He cried, but sobbing only made it worse.

He tried everything. He ran. He strived to find another way, but nothing worked. Each time, “Immortalis letum” was the last thing it whispered to him. He hadn’t known what it meant at first, but now he did.

He never had a relationship because he couldn’t keep one, and he never had friends or kept in contact with family. He spent his days waiting. Waiting to die and wondering, what did he do to deserve this?


He asked himself that single word a lot, but no one ever had an answer. He played out his days as differently as he could. At first he did the same thing everyday, but at last he realized that each day started like he was never born. Nobody remembered him dying.

So he started doing wicked things. Immoral acts.

He stole. He hurt people. He cheated and lied and it was driving him crazy. No matter how differently he did his day—no matter where he was—he always died the same way, at the same time.

He screamed every time because it always hurt and he would never grow used to it. The searing pain as he hit the ground. Sometimes he was cowering in the corner. It didn’t matter where he was or what he was doing because it always happened. It always hit in the same place.

The exact same place.

He felt betrayed, but by whom? It wasn’t anybody’s fault but his own that he ended up this way. It was his mistake. His problem. He said he was sorry every time he was about to die, but he knew no one was listening. He knew he deserved it. He was a depraved man. He was sinful.

He hurt someone.

His wife. He didn’t mean to… or did he? He couldn’t remember anymore. He heard her scream; it still rang in his ears after all these years. He saw her blood trickle down the knife and onto his pale skin and felt nothing. But he couldn’t help it. He had been in a bad mood all day, and he had been on edge most of the evening. He just wanted to be alone. And then she pestered him… while he was chopping vegetables.

So he stabbed her.

She died and he felt nothing. He never made it to the funeral, but her brother came and hunted him down.

He hunted him down and shot him.

Straight through the heart. And three years later, every day, at exactly midnight, he saw that face, the last face he saw. He heard the sound of the gun firing and he didn’t feel it right away, but then it was there: the unbearable pain.

He collapsed on the floor and bled, and the man just laughed…

He screamed but it didn’t help.

He cried, but sobbing only made it worse.

“Immortalis letum” was the last thing it whispered to him. He hadn’t known what it meant at first. But now he did.


SOPHIE DAVIS is a sophomore in high school. Her main companion is her scratched up iBook that is filled to the brim with stories. And she has to agree, chocolate is better in color.