Featured Author: @abisag
Wearing a Snake as a Scarf
I miss that time when I considered you a friend; I could say anything without you judging me. I was simply me, with the transparency of water, the innocence of a child and the illusion of a teenager. Little did I imagine that talking to you helped me to feel freedom, my full and absolute freedom I hung around my neck, as if it were a scarf. I was adorned as I listened to your precise, coherent and reassuring words. I was proud of the freedom you gave me and I began to feel an excessive naivety for the way you treated me, but little by little it all faded away. — @abisag
Featured Author: @bettyhandayani
The sky began to change color, as if ready to welcome the arrival of night time. The sound of insects one by one began to sound quite loud. From the window of the family room house, I saw the sky was getting dark because it was cloudy and some mist had begun to cover the flower garden belonging to the late grandmother in the front yard of the house, "It looks like it will rain tonight" said my heart. — @bettyhandayani
Featured Author: @idlemind
Dried twigs and fallen branches of several enormous trees crackled under the thick soles of a drunken man’s boots as he swayed his way towards the source of the splashing water. The melodious cacophony of droplets, coming from what he imagined as a waterfall, entertained his sense of hearing, soothing the pain in his wounded heart. — @idlemind
Featured Author: @popurri
Their Yellow Eyes
My father worked on the railroad for many years, from a very young age he followed in his father's footsteps and became the conductor of the trains that traveled throughout the region of the great mountains in the south of the country, crossing tunnels and bridges over high cliffs that made many people dizzy, seeing that under them there were only meters and meters of air space until they reached the rocky ground. Those wild mountains preserved a wonderful fauna and flora, where the puma was the king of the mountain, until man came to damage this balance. My father understood this very well when the night surprised him on the way. — @popurri
She always loved the smell or what she refers to as fragrance from her modest condo. The verandah was a mess, filled with leaves all over. The rain had left a good impression on the wall as well as the plantain stems that were bent over as if in a salutation to its owner. — @diikaan
Featured Author: @warpedpoetic
I don’t have water. Whether in the ground or on my tongue, i don’t have water. I must tell my tale with dried mouth; a berry, out of colour, my lips must open and i must speak. If i don’t speak, what will i gain? Will my silence melt the clouds; will it drag the sky down to my door? If i am silent, will that river crack open and a flood will pour out from its charred skin? I must speak because i am human; i am a parent who has to watch children go to bed with ribs stitched to their skin. I must speak. — @warpedpoetic
p.s. You can see the past magazines here: #1, #2, #3, #4, #5, #6, #7, #8, #9, #10, #11, #12, #13, #14, #15, #16, #17, #18, #19, #20, #21, #22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, , 41, 42, , 43, 44, 45, 46,47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65
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