The fluttering ribbon of blue
outside my window deepens
but holds fast to the birches.
Category: world
Leaving – Yin F Lim
Glossy lips, upturned in a cheesy grin. This is what I see when I think about the morning I left my country. The lips of a Ronald McDonald statue, painted red to match its garish hair and its clown’s outfit. Broad lips stretched into a smile that seemed much too bright under soulless eyes. I…
COMFORT FOODS // A History of Goulash – Maryana Lucia Vestic
My earliest memories of goulash are full of warm, satisfying sensations—soft, chewy egg noodles draped in thick brown gravy and big chunks of beef adorned with a few key ingredients like green pepper, onion, and paprika.
PHOTOGRAPHY – Charlie Speck
Beautiful photographic studies of the outdoors in black and white.
POETRY – Chavonne Brown
She was not like unwitting prey,
That had never sighted the lion;
She fled from him, knowing
As she did what it meant…
ONE POEM – Anne Gill
In lattie we held martinis,
un-clobbered each other –
left our cats on the floor in nishta.
COMFORT FOODS // Mammaw’s Christmas Eve Chili Recipe – Parker Anderson
Every year, while the people who crowd around the Christmas Eve table might change, the chili is always just as delicious, and just as cheap to make.
TWO POEMS – Paul McCarrick
The moon will not go down again,
street lights will be on forever and drive
electricity bills into walls with no seatbelts
SHORT STORY – Tamara Lazaroff
My grandfather who was not gay was born in 1930 in Seville, Andalusia. He worked as an itinerant labourer for the señoritos, the rich landlords, tending their olive trees and their domesticated animals.
COMFORT FOODS // Dissecting the Heart of Mandu – J.A. Pak
Dissecting the Heart of Mandu The Chinese, Mongolians, Japanese, and now the Americans and Europeans are in my food, but are the Turkic nomads there as well? Intriguing and exciting. A mandu (만두) is a Korean dumpling. A savory dumpling with a filling of meat. It’s usually boiled but it can also be steamed, pan-fried,…
FLASH FICTION – J.A. Pak
love is not you but a driving beat disguised in fast-moving glamour
TWO POEMS – James Carroll
James Carroll is a twenty-three year old English Literature Masters student at the University of Leeds. His work has featured in multiple Leeds art publications, including The Scribe, Heir and his mother’s fridge. He is currently writing a novel about the relationship between sport and men’s mental health, and no poem could ever mean more…
Porridge 