The theme for December is:

Decadence

 
Inspiration

Letter from the Editor: December

Decadence   After “like, the year of just realizing stuff” (Jenner 2016), we’ve finally reached the end. December is a month of celebration. We’ve braved through the bad, reminisced about the good, and now it’s finally time to wrap it all up. December is a month of eating too much, drinking…

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Time
Prose and Poetry

An Eternal Phase by Jacob Ayerst

There she is sleeping sweetly – beneath the crystal moon blankets of fog encase the roof and keep her safe as she dreams deeply it’s warm inside her hot cocoon – a universe of its own if heaven can be like home… There is no outside. At least not one…

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Garden
Prose and Poetry

Relation Cultivation by Arman Hoque

A relationship is like growing a garden, from seed to bloom, You tend and groom, never knowing when, A blossom may sprout, or a weed pop out, You look at the overall scene, pay attention to what you preen, You cultivate and navigate. You plant the seeds and nurture and…

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JB Brookman
Prose and Poetry

Driftwood by Ellie Ford-Elliot

I was never going to be that person, you know, the one tightly closed like a rosebud pushing away all signs of blooming the gloomy defeatist drenched in the blood of the past like an English economy booming I was never going to be that person I decided at eighteen,…

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Inspiration

Letter From the Editor: November

PEOPLE   November, for me, is a month that always feels a bit unnecessary. December should just be the length of two months, so no one can complain on social media about it being ‘too early’ for Christmas related paraphernalia. Warm weather feels like a distant memory; I’m not really…

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Uncanny Soldiers
Prose and Poetry

An Unfamiliar Presence by Jacob Ayerst

Everybody has a twin. Not quite an identical twin, though the twins are all identical. They are all pale and thin like the fingers of smoke that rise from a bonfire. They never speak but appear to whisper silently over the shoulder of the person that they follow. Nobody else…

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Crimson by Farhana Kabir
Prose and Poetry

Crimson by Farhana Kabir

Tick Tick Tick The unseeing beat, Beat, beat, beat Continuous and incessant The noise up-rose. Tick Tock Tick, The hand stroke 12, Midnight’s crimson beast, Blood red eyes, burned each time Honed in on the red hood. Tick Tick Tock, The claws held a hand full of golden lock, Crimson…

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Talking Pillow
Prose and Poetry

The Talking Pillow by Aaron Simpson

Sat in the circle at group therapy, he wants to tell us that his wife (of eight years, nearly nine) speaks in tongues, whenever they make love – Otherwise known as screaming any, sometimes every, name but his – her back bent back like the devil of autumn nights, head…

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