– raccoon and thought of you, how you lay in the hospital bed, breathing so heavy, hooked up to that machine, and the raccoon breathed the same way, so if I closed my eyes I would’ve thought it was human
We eat at Olive Garden after learning if our father / had stronger kidneys a portion of his intestines
In Paris, every advertisement is a painting. The city is wallpapered with them: vibrant, colorful posters that grow like moss on every surface.
Leslie’s asking the important question: why not…?
Fiction | Dear Sleuth Readers: The following content is an excerpt from a letter currently on display in the National Museum of Tourism and Immigration.
In this poem, Lebo explores the concept of occupying space.
Hanna teaches you how to love yourself.
“Love has no exit interviews,” I say. “Closure is the poor man’s time travelling.” My voice is cold over the phone. I tell myself the situation calls for it; I’m speaking to my ex-girlfriend, after all.
It often feels like there’s nothing left to say. Let me clarify: there’s nothing peaceful left to say.
Lebo’s poem makes us question the reasons we grieve.