{By Paola Benevides}
A bird was already circling the yard, taciturn, as if foreseeing an end. Who would it be? The passing of time seemed incomprehensible
{ By Justine Carbery }
And then he was picking her up and hugging her as if he wanted, no needed, to draw the life blood out of her, as if his caresses could dissolve the pain.
{By Michael Donohue}
It must have been after three when we stumbled through the exit. It was starting to drizzle but we hardly noticed, insulated in our intoxication.
Cecelia reflects on finding inspiration during lockdown, gives advice to young writers trying to find themselves in the creative industry, and also gives us a sneak peak into her upcoming novel, Freckles.
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