by Victor Garate
As he usually did when greeting me, my dad held the back of my neck and planted a kiss on my forehead. I didn’t greet him back.
by Victor Garate
As he usually did when greeting me, my dad held the back of my neck and planted a kiss on my forehead. I didn’t greet him back.
by Caleb Hogan
It’s the end of the month
you’re staying up until midnight
waiting for your Link card to refill.
You’ve been making peanut butter sandwiches
out of stale crackers all week.
by Jennifer De La Cruz
She loses sleep searching for deals on humidifiers and dreams of fog. If plants need just three simple things to grow, why won’t they?
by Saturn Lawson
We are the children
Of those who threw the first stones
by Victoria Segarra
She wears warm, vibrant colors. I wear cold, muted colors. Her voice is loud and distinct. She often asks me to repeat myself because I’m so quiet.
by Isabella Allwood
I want my photos to remind the audience to call their grandma. I want every photo to have a personality, like you know someone is there but you just can’t see them.
by Emily Ramos
For parts of my early childhood, my mother was a vampire. A part of her was this creature that couldn’t be fully seen—someone I couldn’t fully recognize.
by Jino Dority
This piece was created in honor of the singer Jonghyun, a staunch supporter of the LGBTQ+ community who passed in 2017.
by Matthew Pacuruco
Over a cone of fast light comes sadness,
a chaos that consumes many things.
(An astronaut is supposed to know this part.)
by Joel Pazmiño
He knows the gravity of what happened that Wednesday morning on the highway, and who’s responsible and who’s to blame and what to do and this and that. He knows.
By Ethan Velez
“Is my husband cheating on me?”
She gives me this look. She was expecting this question, but she was still surprised I asked.
“Sunnier Morning” by Len Rivera
by Tai Coronación
Estranghero
Perpetual foreigner
Words that are permanent on my body
by Caleb Hogan
What the fuck are you talking about?
I never called you that.
That never happened.
by Alessandra Ventura
How often has the moon beheld me from afar
eagerly waiting for my phone to glow?
by Layla Barrett
Smell of piss and shit, burnt coffee, New York Times.
Women and children on trains selling sweets
Anything to help make ends meet.
By Jocelyn Carrasco
After it destroys you, saturate and add higher resolution to each scene
by Danaiya Odom
Hold on so tight they can not be swiped by the hopeless.
The restless.
The silver spooners.
“Wings of Love,” Alondra Barrales (shawl); photo by Ethan Velez. Alondra Barrales is a student at LaGuardia Community College and crocheted the “Wings of Love” shawl in March 2024. Its colors are inspired by the […]
by Akasha Weeratne
You are the man who adored the stars so passionately that their twinkle intensified whenever you were near.
by Alvi Chowdhury
My hands were becoming sweaty as my heart was racing. I tapped my foot in an attempt to calm the nerves.
Click here to view Allwood’s photographs in the 2024 issue. Interview by Tammy Browne and Christopher Schmidt You write in your contributor’s bio that you took the photographs in this portfolio when you returned to […]
Interview by Kevin Cruz What inspired you or gave you the inspiration to write this piece? What inspired me to write this piece was the idea of how my life took a turn when I […]
What inspired you to write “A Promise Goes Both Ways”? I wrote “A Promise Goes Both Ways” for my introduction to creative writing course after being prompted to create a flash fiction piece. “A Promise […]
What inspired you to write “Ode to a Strange Planet”? I actually wrote “Ode To A Strange Planet” as an assignment for a creative writing course I took last year at LaGuardia. We had to […]