ONE POEM – Elizabeth Ruth Deyro

Cold waters caress my feet like lovers kept apart
by chance. Foam meets flesh. Flesh kisses sand deeply,
forming wet clay against my soles. I press harder—

SHORT STORY – Viv Mah

In the worst of Anna’s dreams, Eric is always at his best: more alert, more alive, and more charming than she can remember.

COMFORT FOODS // Pawpaw Meat – Miriam Gauntlett

I don’t look Chinese, I don’t speak the language besides a few words here and there, and I have never met any of my Chinese family besides my grandmother; put simply, I don’t have much Chinese cultural knowledge at all. And yet, my grandmother gave birth to my mother, and my mother gave birth to me.