by Elizabeth McCloy | Nov 22, 2022 | 2023 Contest Finalist
YOU (Content Warning: Suicide) I place the key into the ignition and turn it; my dad’s old ‘67 Camaroroars to life. It was his prized possession, navy blue with two white race stripes right down the hood. Now, dirt suffocates him six feet under. I’m going to...
by Elizabeth McCloy | Nov 22, 2022 | 2023 Contest Finalist
The promise of a thousand kisses: has always been a lie. Slipping away into momentary bliss. Slipping away into a single, sultry night sky. I’ve always hidden the colour of my heart. Tucked away its rose-filling, its pink catastrophe routed in desire. Tucked it...
by Elizabeth McCloy | Nov 22, 2022 | 2023 Contest Finalist
this cigarette, I forgot I lit it When Papa’s cough didn’t stop after the medicine, we knew it was bad. He was a big man, larger than life, and so to see him, curled up small in his bed felt like a knife in the ribs. We tried for days to bring the fever down, but like...
by Elizabeth McCloy | Nov 22, 2022 | 2023 Contest Finalist
Something that I want more than anything is the ability to pause time. On a rainy day, to stop the droplets in their flight and see my reflection in them, walk about and around, into them even. Or snowflakes on their journey down from the sky, to examine their...
by Elizabeth McCloy | Nov 20, 2022 | 2023 Contest Finalist
THE IRON ARM By: Jasper Gillard Trigger Warning: Animal abuse The iron arm sat patiently upon a rusty trash can, surrounded by bright neon lights that reflected off its silver outline. A man with one arm stared at the device, unsure of what mysterious...
by Elizabeth McCloy | Nov 20, 2022 | 2023 Contest Finalist
Eclipse Alone with strangers, I melt into gravel. Their boots make a satisfying crunch as they grind me down into earth. Plastered in vinyl, we peel persimmons and black out the sun with fistfuls of ash as the train screams and cheap bourbon consecrates the tracks....
