She was called a bride
before she was called a girl.
These Simple Salts | a short story by Emmanuel Olabiyi
Mother sits beside me, I do not know where her mind revels. Then she flings herself up, eating air, muttering words. Women amongst the sympathizers had followed her into the kitchen. Where they held her by each arm, retrieving whatever thing was in her right palm.
HANDS | a poem by Emmanuel Olabiyi
Hands reach us. Hands are good things.
The Distance Between Truth and Falsehood | a short story by Collins Ozara
To be an elder brother is to never be fully prepared of what circumstance would require breaking principles, of what sacrifice you would have to offer in the next waking moment.
STRONGER THAN A THOUSAND SOLDIERS | a poem by Odu Favour Awele
This rock I speak of is my father,
Unbroken, steadfast, like no other.
WINDS ATTRIBUTED TO A TORNADO / GOD’S SIMPLE PECULIARITIES / EGREGIOUS AGGREGATES / THE GODS HAVE ESCAPED / AN ABDICATOR’S APPREHENSION / EPIC CURES | Six Poems by Colin James
The cloud hovered perpetually
over the inlet’s wake,
best keep an eye on it.
EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE | Five Poems by Dr. Diwakar Pokhriyal
Fictitious truths are wandering,
Filthy actions are trending,
I have lost the hope for light,
Fed up of my life due pretending