Table Of Content

A Letter From the Editors works Usal vhis posed the gestion, Who are you? and we are pleased to urtuey Par Visual Art Sea the Beauty (fret cover) - Michelle Vandarapele Oreizied — Helena Schuteman Little wands - Bmna Roorda ist after Redan - Bethany Kenyon Attention to Detail - Michelle Vanderspek Farver Fred ~ Kamaria Quinn Confidence - Maggie Perry Violence of Fading Memories ~ Rethany Kenyon Unt:cled ~ Helena Schourman unititled {back Cover) - Lana Burchell Poetry/Short Wildiize and fave - Oksana Slade Clot - Helena Schuurman Little Hands - Emma Roorda By the Secon - Hlliana Reitsma My Dirt Floor - Chantal Masselink Mrltipls choice - Rachel Wall ConZescionals - Rebeka Borchesky an as Death - Nathan Brink Here 4 Now - Elise Arsenault atlas - Carly Ververs Story Wildfire and Wave Oksana Slade Lama wild 4 cave, where 1 find mys will asow wilder but with hin 1/1. fin clot Helena Sohuurman felat/s noun. Le a distortion in my veing causing Ube hes stop. 2. An obstacle in buooc’s to skip a beat, or worse, to vay of the heart, like a front door locked with no key, @ pothe! te the Promised Zand, or a way perpetual red 1icht at an intersectiun I wail al, hoping, praying, leaging for chance ot sclotr so the hear may beat, £9 T can return heme to life. A clot is an inmense frustration, crippling shame/ an event too hard to vass/ an overwhelm, the skip of 2 heart/ though an obstacle, it's only a wait/ rest here, pilgrim, step here now/ you are destined to the heart, though in a clot. They have wailed for 1 but are weighted by death. ‘Thay have embraced what 1a broken, bean dvagged along by unfamiliarity. For these Little Hands are the seeds of a nation;whese pals could one cay you into towering trees, to mighty forests. Yes, these tiny tial, yet. held, nds clench much poten- poteatial can’t find a hand te escapes, Seaping out of a tired, shoel sole. ora Tittle dard reaches out, Bt gresps and dirty finger Nothin Two Lictle Hands fcld inte each other, searching for invecnal comfort. But finds, Nothing ut the space: each damp and dirty finger of confusion between uoduey Aueyjeq - urpoy 10agv zerz9 By the Moon Elliana Reistma ‘ith one indefinite sweep, any part! feet disappears dading in causes goosebumps te pee up, covering every inch of my body. e of sand thet was cn my men the water is tickling my chin, TLL my cheeks with air and push off the kotzom. Completely submerged, the des and my heart shivering, thumps in Bladl Shore is just a distant menory, left behind in a trail of ripples. Maybe I°11 never return, 1/11 keep kicking until my legs ¢> aumb waler hides whal is under me, Floating on my back, eyes closed, I'm the winds vic tt blows, there the waves will until Powerless, > lay like @ ragdoll my feet drag along sand. My Dirt Floor Chantel Masselink ford, T wish I could offer you more, seat, on my dirt floor T beg- Have something to eat put pl Have There's marsels on the table- and a erurb on my cheek You've eeticed the stained whitewashed walls, Ii’s been about a waek since they last matched Lhe tomb-like halls, I didn’t want to show you this, I was going to give a call to prove that not! Instead you showec up, ia amidst of it all I answered the door, strung out on performance, high on responsibility ag was amiss you didn’t ask for more, You simply asked, to sit on my dict floar