You and Me by Leanne LindsayThe Echo of a Petal
There is a quiet physics to the way we look at ourselves. We spend our lives searching for a surface that might hold our likeness, hoping that in the reflection of a window or the stillness of a pond, we might finally see the person others…
Balloon Girl by Shirren LimThe Weight of Breath
The smell of rubber—sharp, synthetic, and slightly sweet—always brings me back to the sticky heat of a summer afternoon. It is the scent of things that are meant to float, things that hold a piece of our own breath inside them. When I was…
Navigating Lifes Crossroads by Wilfried ClausThe Space Between Us
I was walking through the subway station this morning, clutching my bag and checking my watch, when I saw two people standing near the stairs. They weren't talking, and they weren't touching, but there was a strange, magnetic tension in the…