elementia

A Letter to My Mother, Who I Love Very Much and Who I Hope Doesn’t Read This

By Elizabeth Joseph

When I needed a white sheet for Toga day at school, my father immediately gave me his own white cloth. The weave was loose and rough, with a smooth strip of gold running down one side, so large I thought it was a sari.


Flowers Exist on the Moon

By Maggie Golshani

Fidgeting my leg against a familiar school desk, the dreadful anticipation always washes over me while listening to roll call on the first day of school.


Taylor

By Abigail Cottingham

His taste in music was mayonnaise: bland and unappreciated by most of the population. I guess you could say I love mayonnaise. We attended the same school, but a year separated us so we didn’t have any classes together.


replaced

By Emma Nicholson

Day and night become irrelevant 

Time is no longer marked by the movement of the sun

But rather the hours passed in front of a screen


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