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Vol. XXIII | 2023

by Élana Gatien

It's so peaceful here, where the incense cedar smells sharp and clear and the Oregon myrtle breaks with the smell of my dad's spaghetti sauce. River-smooth boulders tower over the water, dotted with Jeffery pines and Douglas-firs.


Vol. XXIII | 2023

by Summer Eves

So you're a college student. There's this girl you've been talking to. Or she says she's a girl. You don't know whether or not to believe it. You don't know if she believes it. She says she does, but she doesn't seem to flinch when people say that she's a 'he' or a 'they'

Vol. XXIII | 2023

by C. F. Bellairs

The tree grew on a hill of its own, a crown of red-gold leaves draped across its clutching boughs.

Vol. XXIII | 2023

by Zee Nace

Sunlight streamed in through the kitchen window and onto the obituaries page beneath my folded arms.

Flowering Clouds


by Rowan Owens

A sunset was just breaking out over the floating city. The sun had begun to dip below the clouds.

Cafe Gray


by Jadey Holcomb

We were out on the fire escape, sitting side by side on the staircase, staring at the stars,

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