Someone Worth Surviving For
You’re not going to be ready. Not when it happens— not when he arrives, not when you hold the test in your shaking hand, thinking you did everything right,…
Field Notes for a Son I Didn’t Know
Day 4 She turned down the radio when a child sang. Didn’t say why, But her fingers curled against her thigh like they were remembering how to hold a…
False Spring?
The cold won’t quit. April spits warmth, then slips back into bone-gnawing wind— sinks its teeth in again, all bite, no bloom. We talked about a garden— just talked—…
Necromnesis
By breath and bone and fleeting trace, I call you— by sigh mistaken, empty space, I call you— by echoes caught in fraying thread, by shadows drifting near my bed,…
All or Nothing
If time were clay that offered me a chance To shape anew the path that brought me here, To mould it would undo the sorrows past, Yet lose the wonders…
He Who Drowned the World by Shelley Parker-Chan
History murmurs beneath waves, slow waters shaping silently, a quiet riot of ambition, rhythms rewriting stone and soil, kingdoms softly spun, undone in echoes louder than their rise, cycles swift as shifting tides. Characters tread shadowed roads, footsteps fading, heavy with desire, edges sharp yet known, familiar, mirrors revealing clearer truths— fragments reflecting regret, shadows stretching, breaking, guiding gently by the hand toward understanding. Parker-Chan’s prose flows softly, sli…