the way my grandparents drive

By Maegan Tan because his right hand unsteadily clutches the wheel while the other is intertwined tenderly with grandmother’s hands, these rusted rings embracing then, and now

resonance/Dissonance

By Durva Gautam Kamdar the next train to the ghost realm wouldn’t leave till the sun rose again, he realised. and he was hungry. so, so hungry.

she weathers us all

By leandre huang the rain is her liquid love, it slides down her sides, it seeps into the crevices  of their listless hearts, it blankets her children

Chocolate Milk

By Kimaya Bhuta the little girl, she sang to the screaming sky, hardly through the rubble, stars made of bombs, sparklers of salvo, her memory made of dreams. 

this is me pleading for my country to love me

By Cheryl Tan Oh, Singapura. Singapore. Sin-ga-pore. In the folds of Becca D'Bus’s costume there is an Island sunny and free, set alone in the sea.