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Sonnet I: The Open Island by Adam Barrett
See the pain of one but not the other A skinned dog but not the starving mother A tortured animal but not the child Ruined lands by us always seen so mild
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Hopscotch? by a.j. flanagan
There was heavy rain in the parking lot. Everywhere, really, but especially in the parking lot. Cracks as trenches in the puddles. Dots and circles. From the desk closest to the window, I couldn’t make out the dots, but there were the circles.
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Annabelle by kate ditchburn
“Hello.” – “My name is Dr. Green. But I prefer the name Elena. Much less formal.” – “What’s your name?” A glance. Nothing more, but a start.
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