She fixed her attention on that twitching dime-sized bit of skin, and shut everything else out. A large volcano she had not even known was active was right now erupting north of Manila, sending harshly blinding ash-fall over the capital.

Fiction by Noelle Q. de Jesus

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Dear Francine du Plessix Gray

“I’m said to be a very gifted analysand,” you humble-bragged in your interview, quite elegantly. I used to be so efficient with my therapist’s time, but the older I get, the more agile I become at skirting the stuff that makes me ugly-cry.

Creative Nonfiction by Candace Walsh

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Delta Blues

the trains left / to go where they go / she wasn’t there / to rattle off with them down the lips.

Poetry by Matt Morgan

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It was the divine. He knew none of it made sense. Really, he hated it. But here and now, it was fucking gorgeous. 

Fiction by Benjamin Blay

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