New Beginnings by Nicole GilmerThe Salt of Returning
There is a specific grit to the air when you return to a place that once held your younger skin. It tastes like damp wool and the metallic tang of a coming rain, a flavor that sits at the back of the throat long after the wind has died down.…
Silent Ballet by Leanne LindsayThe Weight of Water
I remember sitting on the edge of the Bondi rock pool at four in the morning, watching a local fisherman mend his nets. He didn't look up when I sat down, just kept his hands moving in that rhythmic, practiced dance. He told me that the ocean…
A Dios Vais by Sagar MakhechaThe Weight of Small Departures
It is 3:14 am. The house has stopped settling, and the silence is heavy enough to touch. At this hour, I think about the things that leave without saying goodbye. We are obsessed with grand exits, with doors slamming and final words that echo…