Valerie Morgans

THE FISHEYE LENSES by Elena Aguilar

Elias sits in front of me on the soft, L-shaped couch, the scent of old marihuana puffing up into...

Clary sits on a park bench, and tries to remember what it feels like to be touched. The quick push...

Their first date they played Jenga with lit matches and pick-up sticks with unthreaded needles....

I’m not a storyteller, a writer, or anything. I just like writing down the truth. As I see it....

We should’ve known, when Roy had handmade the die. It should have been an omen, the word itself....