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When Chocolate’s owner disappears, she sets out on a mission to find them Chocolate licked her brown fur twice as her owner petted her and made some sounds with her mouth. Her owner made unusual...
Issue: <span>March 2022</span>
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When Chocolate’s owner disappears, she sets out on a mission to find them
Chocolate licked her brown fur twice as her owner petted her and made some sounds with her mouth. Her owner made unusual sounds; humans made sounds Chocolate couldn’t make. Chocolate guessed humans made those sounds so the other humans could know how he or she felt. Today, the sounds sounded sad.
Butterflies are delphiniums’ spring.
Waves are oceans’ spring.
Sprouts are gardens’ spring.
I looked up in the sky,
I saw my little kite.
“You are my spring.”
A malfunctioning air conditioner provides an unexpected opportunity for imaginative play
One day, I was watching my tablet in my study room, and I heard a strange sound. I looked where the sound was coming from, and I saw the AC dripping some cold water.
I switched the AC off. I then brought a bowl to keep water from spilling on the floor. Soon the bowl got filled up with water.
A strip of gray, perforated by yellow lines, cutting through the grasses, trees, rocks.
It appeals to me,
The surveying, engineering, construction,
All to conquer this one point of the barrier
Between oceans, watersheds, counties, states.
The peak of the path,
Barrier of waters,
Somehow excites me.
Is it truly my cartographic desire
Or just a mind wandering?
Zoe never turns down a dare—even a really dangerous one
My name is Zoe. I am ten years old. I will tell you what I remember.
I met with my friend Taylor outside my house after school. Taylor is my goofy friend who likes wearing Baby Yoda T-shirts and doing weird T-Rex dances where she holds her arms up as if she has tiny T-Rex arms. We kicked a soccer ball back and forth in the street.
Quiet.
Still.
The thick air seems to push down,
Weighing more than any real thing.
Ill-perceived by my thoughts, it groans under me
With the cushion, bowl shaped by my perennial existence.
Somehow their lives are more perceivable than my own.
Sterile, premade, they make no decisions in their pixelated world.
Go outside
Go to a forest
Find a place where you can sit down
Listen to the sweet sounds of the birds chirping
Feel the soil grasp you and bring you down into its domain
Listen to the rushing water of the stream
Feel the moss grow on you and chain you against the tree next to you
Open your eyes
You now feel all tingly inside
You have just met
The Spirits of the Forest