I was conditioned to believe that  all conflict is my fault, fueling the desire to end my own happiness as I’m always anxiously anticipating the end,  how could I be content?   But...

Clouds flow by like loose leaves in a commanding current They seem to dance to the enchanting tune of the breeze Presented by McKenna Graf ’26 and Literary Magazine

he cried when the doctor spoke of owls in the morning and curdled milk, moth balls and polyester in a thrift store. did you cry at your diagnosis? no, this elevator goes up once and never comes...

i lie still in a dark room comforter pulled over me a quiet wind whispering outside my leg is folded under me ankle behind my knee and the dog has her head on my thigh her butt tucked under my armpit and...