To That Summer Night of My Youth, 1984…
By Edmond Degasperis You probably don’t remember me, yet I can still feel your cool breeze sweeping across my sun-burned face, washing away all remnants of her kiss… that first kiss. You probably forgot my presence, yet I still feel the wet, cool sand littered with smooth and jagged shells beneath my feet. You probably wouldn’t recognize my voice, yet I can still hear the buzzing of your yellow street lamps, lining narrow sand-covered roads like numerous setting suns against the darkening sky. I can still hear the joyous sounds of youth, muffled by each crashing wave barely...
Read MoreThe Weed
By Kristen Sztyndor The door flung open. “Get up.” I peeled my eyes open to notice the sun peeking over the horizon through the window. “I said, GET UP.” “Ok, ok…” I replied, my mind still blurry from sleep. I glanced over at my younger sister. Her face wore the unexpected fear that we had become too familiar with while spending summers at our Dad’s. Attempting to ignore it, I got dressed. The feelings from last night’s dream rushed through me. I was on the beach. Hearing the waves rolling up on the sand, the three of us built sand castles. Passing the yellow bucket and...
Read MoreBrooklyn Love
By Laura Jayne Martin I walked across the bridge today. Or more accurately, I walked to the middle of the bridge and turned back. I don’t want to go into the city anymore. I just want to stay here in Brooklyn where everyone is sad like me. “Losing my edge” is playing on my iPod. “I hear that everybody you know, is more relevant than everyone that I know.“ It’s a funny lyric. I haven’t always been this sad, but I’ve always been this thin. It helped me blend in immediately when I moved here three years ago from Glen Ridge, New Jersey. Glen Ridge is the 38th best place...
Read MoreSci-Fi
By Brien Milbauer There’s something a bit awkward with the way you’re looking at me. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I know I don’t like it. God, why don’t you just stop? I’m smiling because you’re making me nervous. I’m nodding my head and laughing sometimes because I want this to end as quickly as possible. Imagine if you stopped talking and I had to sit here eating this awful food in silence? I’d just keep chewing. You’d probably think it cute – the uncomfortable silence. You’d probably make a comment about...
Read MoreOctober in the Northeast
by Laura Jayne Martin I’ve always been running from something. Usually, this is in the most literal sense of the expression—there is a guy right behind me. He wants the same thing I want. And so, I have to run. Growing up here is easy, but living here is hard. The headaches of privilege mean I live in a clean and simple town where I am certain to succumb to death by nostalgia at any second. Sometimes I think teenagers are nostalgic for things that haven’t happened yet. There’s just so much yearning in an apple orchard, in a silent study hall, in a shared bedroom, in a town with...
Read MoreSweet Face
By Brittany DiGiacomo When I close my eyes the image of your face appears in my mind. Those soft brown eyes catch my immediate gaze. The golden yellow shines through them like the warmth of the sun on a hot summer day, which unexpectedly takes me into a dream where you and me are together and happy once again. I take my hand and slowly caress the side of your sweet face, where I run my fingers through your prickly beard. I inhale as my mind wanders onto your lips. Your lower one being more sculpted and voluptuous, with straggles from your mustache overlapping onto the light pink color of...
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