Fiction

Short Story
The Code
Carl didn’t know the code. The timer was ticking, the bomb was going to blow, but he had no idea how to shut the thing
Daniel Scott White

Poetry
Ghost Hunting
I’m hunting for ghosts,In alleys lit by memories,Phantoms of yesterday,Carved out of my mind.What I once held,You me and our dreams,Scraped knees and screeching swings,Pokémon
Luna Yang

Poetry
Home No More
I miss your coffee-covered breath, Early in the morning. It made me hungrier than death For a thrill without a warning. I miss your sweet
Saira Danielle

Fiction
Only the Good Parts Left
Angie was the type of car people kept in antique store backyards ‘cause they thought she looked cool, “There ain’t nothing like a Classic Chevy.”
Elise Kelly

Poetry
When You Grow Up
I’d rather be a collapsed flower drenched in rainwater; succumbed to the well where wishes weld winning whims. though not alone as the barren heart
Dr. Ernest Williamson III
