Poetry

the girl-child's limerick

//lind grant-oyeye

She swore she saw the Jabberwocky hidden in a rabbit hole

ruminations

//renoir gaither

they arrive/unannounced, prodded/by forks with missing tines/or scribbled in longhand/on crayon wrappers

&

Prose

gothic story

//roger stephenson

The left side of my face feels wet and sticky. Swimming against ragged waves of nausea, I slowly raise my head upright and rest it against the cool cinder-block wall. I gingerly touch my face and wince — my fingers are bloodied.

 

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