ISSUE THREE - JULY 2026
by Rellie Luo
ONE OF THE GREATS by Alysia Lewis
As a literate woman in possession of good taste and a library card, I fucking hate reading.
I’m currently in the throes of Jamaica Kincaid’s most recent anthology of work. I was on the train, feel oh so proud of myself for reading a book instead of of being on my phone like the rest of the rabble, when I came across this passage from the essay, “On Seeing England for the First Time,”:
“If now as I speak of all this I give the impression of someone on the outside looking in, nose pressed up against a glass window, that is wrong. My nose was pressed up against a glass window all right, but there was an iron vise at the back of my neck forcing my head to stay in place,”
The words struck me so physically that I felt silly. I felt like if I told anyone about the way it made me feel they’d either think I was a lunatic or a stuck up cunt. But that passage was so textured that I couldn’t do anything but feel. I want to show it to my mother and father and hear the texture of their past growing up when Guyana was British Guiana and see if they like the feeling of Mrs. Kincaid’s work too…CONTINUED
Everlasting Bloom 1
Everlasting Bloom 2
Piece of Italy
Ethereal
Do you think I’m going to Hell? by N.J.
Prologue
Today, I heard “The Great divide” by Noah Kahan and I thought about all the people in my life that I wished would be scared of all the ordinary shit and not their soul, and what He might do with it. I wish there were enough words I could say to wash over their fears so they wouldn’t be ruled by something so intangible, so far from Earth. It’s hard to believe this is what we face in our short life–a question so vast and beyond our reach, that causes this much pain. I am done with that pain and I no longer want to hold it. I’m okay with my decision to be that way, and I want to believe I’m not being punished for being okay with it.
Do you think I’m going to Hell?
I want to believe I’m not being punished for what I decided
I said I was done, and I meant it
Where were you when it felt like dying would be easier?
Being 13 years old was hard enough on its own
Wondering if I was the Devil my p*rents thought I was
maybe was too much to add
Why, oh, why God did you send more people
into my world to rip me wide open?
I wasn’t done cleaning up the pieces
You’re laughing now, but I’ll be the one to judge
In the end, I was the one who survived it alone
I was the one who got me through
Good luck to those of you who think
someone is coming to save you
Amen
by N.J.
FLASH DESIGNS by BEE AMOUR
“My work explores texture, color, nature, and animals.”
