pigeon

Fiction

By pigeon

Blind

I awake on the floor in the dark. All around me is emptiness, inexplicable emptiness. The thick blackness pushes against my eyeballs, digging its thumbs into my skull. Disoriented, I scrabble against the floor, a thin and matted carpet.

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Poetry

By marinara

glass hearts

it's dark.
you wouldn’t know that if you looked at me,
of course
you wouldn’t even know i’m there
transparent, lucid,

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Essay

By harpy

Three Hearts

Octopuses have three hearts. I’ve been told that I do too. Is it the way I look at you or the way I listen? Is it how I place my hand on your shoulder or how I smile?

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