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Cold
Trigger warning for brief and non-explicit mention of death
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The Angels
Donnie and Bonnie, two beautiful little losers, lay themselves down underneath the bleachers while talking about life.
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Sweaters and Otherworldly Things
In a dim corner of the local space museum, sat a young woman, her neck slumped down. Hunched over a tangle of red wool, her eyes locked on the material in an unblinking, trance-like focus.
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A Minute of Your Time
She’s coming home from the grocery store when she meets him. He’s leaning against the wall near the entrance, and she’s trying to juggle her shopping bags with the search for the key to get into the building. “Excuse me, ma’am. Could I have a few minutes of your time?”
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End Credits
Trigger warnings: plane crash, major character death
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Already Dead
Content warnings: supernatural, ominous, murder.
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At the Cafe We Used to Frequent
Nina thought about the question very carefully, chasing the rim of her cup with the tip of her finger. She valued the quiet inside of the café—it had a real weight to it.
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Undone
Trigger warning: mentions of panic attacks and self-harm.
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Paradise
Every day from late June to the end of August (yes, every day) I’d pick Sam up in my dad’s Ford and we’d go down to our spot. It was everyone’s spot, really, but Sam liked to call it ours. She’d once told me she never felt more at home than out there, like it was the only place she belonged in the world.
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The Trail
Disclaimer: This piece deals with the death and killing of animals, namely fish. Although it is not overly explicit, the action of hitting it over the head, as well as blood is mentioned.
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Onward Otis: The Empathic Onion
For the first time Otis felt the warmth of the sun as it kissed his outer skin. The only feeling of warmth Otis knew was felt through the dirt.
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Offerings
I was heading to work when the first goat arrived.
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My Mother’s Shadow
PHOEBE Drip drip. My eyes jolt open as I am greeted by the tranquil pitter patter of rain outside my fogged window. It hasn't rained all summer in New York since I moved here. My mom and I found this three story apartment to sublet for summer. I guess the girl before didn’t think to mention the leak in the ceiling.
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A Bizarre Night
I do not normally believe in these things. But today, I am compelled to share this, my friend’s personal account of a bizarre night with you, hoping to elicit some answer of what might have happened to my friend.
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Annual ESA Short Story Competition!
Attention writers and UBC creatives! It’s that time of year when we host the ESA’s annual short story competition, back for its second year. Do you have a short story, sitting forlorn and alone in your google drive? Submit! Are you desperate for an excuse to procrastinate your homework by flexing your creative muscles? Write and submit!