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Cover
Table of Contents
Editor's Notes
Donations
Submission Guidelines
Website

Stories & Essays
...gone tomorrow
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By jp Rodriguez
Barbie and the Burn Scars
_ By Dion OReilly
Bright Lights
_ By Nicole Exposito
Cricket Theory
_ By Sophia Alev
Dieciseis
_ By Kate Delany
Fines Double In Work Zone
_ By Brian Stumbaugh
Guy and Doll
_ By John P. Loonam
Lake
_ By Erlynda Jacqui Chan
Lala's Diner
_ By Nicole Exposito
Laundry
_ By Allison P. Boye
Love Story
_ By Cynthia Burke
Magic Bags and Forgotten Princesses
_ By Ken Goldman
Squirrels
_ By Benjamin Buchholz

Poetry
Baking Bread and Other Subtleties
_ By Leland Jamieson
Corpus Christi
_ By Taylor Collier
Early Cold
_ By Yvette A. Schnoeker-Shorb
Ekphrasis at the Mall
_ By James Owens
Games In Your Uncle's Den
_ By Robin Stratton
My Spanish Rose
_ By Jose Rivera
Northern Lights, Southern Soul
_ By E.F. Kramer
Posted on Fifth Avenue
_ By J.R. Salling
Sirens
_ By Naiya Wright
Summer Sojourn
_ By Cheryl Butterweck-Bucher
The Himalayan Sunset
_ By Rohith Sundararaman
Time Decays, Clots
_ By Kristine Ong Muslim
Turn
_ By Terrance Schaefer
Where You Rest
_ By Stephanie N. Barnes

Art & Photography
Bissan Alhussein
_ Paintings
E.W. Hung
_ Photography
Papa Osmubal
_ Drawings
Linda Pakkas
_ Drawings
Anastasiya Tarasenko
_ Paintings
Filip Wierzbicki
_ Paintings and Digital Photography
Nancy Xu
_ Paintings and Drawings

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Turn
By Terrance Schaefer


Come and sit, take your rest with me.
Don't worry, the hearth will keep you
warm, the chilly north wind won't find
you under that blanket. Nurse the cider
and bide your time with me, dear one.

The autumn is beautiful isn't it? Trees
dressed in copper and maroon tones,
the storm clouds are placid, the
musical wind sings lullabies, tucking
the earth under delicate white sheets

The gentle time, the earth in slumber.
The long night's silent whispers of
serenity, giving to the world dreams
of the old ways, now gone, and new
promises of virgin ways soon to come.

Can you hear the robins chirping there?
"Wake up," they sing, "Time to play!"
Greeting the dawn, Gaea moves gaily
in reds and yellows; strolling through
Eden's flowers while the sun rises high.

The days grow long, but only if you
notice. The fields are calling us to run,
like we once did, in wind-waved violets.
Dandelion wine with blueberry dreams
mark the time of new hopes, new love.

She is beautiful, isn't she? Giving us
hints of things to come, noticeable in
the ivory gown. A sylvan-inspired face
smiles fondly beneath that mesh veil.
His spirit smiles at his future family.

Bonds of the heart are the strongest
type, as with these three. The little one
skips stones into the placid pond,
while mom and dad lament on their
memories, oblivious to the end of days.

Torchlights and dirges mark the passing
while the march moves on, beneath
the oak box, the eternal bed, holds only
love as she goes searching for her missing
comfort amongst the dusk-colored clouds.

I always did love the sunsets seen from
this window. It seems like a view only I
am privy to, however I have no qualms
sharing it with you, dear one. Will you
wait with me? The dawn comes soon.

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TERRANCE SCHAEFER has been writing for a little more than ten years, dealing mostly with essays, short stories, and poetry. He's currently working on his first book, for which the manuscript should be completed by the end of the year. No publishers have been contacted as of yet.

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