The woman dipped the sturdy oars into the glasslike reflection below, rippling the face of the moon with hushed strokes. Wish, wish, breathed the lake in response to the foreign touch. She directed
“My, my, Lindsay, that is quite the stack of books you have there.” Mrs. Nelson pulled her reading glasses lower on her nose to scrutinize the stack of books that Lindsay thunked on
To read the past parts of “Pirate Hunters,” check out Volume 2, Issues 2, 3, 5, and 6 in the Inkwell Literary Magazine’s online archive. Red. Blood Red. That’s what the
To read the first two parts of “In the Dark,” check out Volume 2, Issues 5 and 6 in the Inkwell Literary Magazine’s online archive. Four people huddled together, rushing to City
Higgledy-Piggledy Hades’ Persephone Six Months in Underworld Darkness and Cling. Ceres, or Demeter, Extra-possessively Calls for her Daughter to Usher the Spring.
If you walk a winter’s night, Listen, and you will hear The shrieking wind evade your sight And cry into your ear. It whips away at flowers, And the roses bow their
“The value of the myth is that it takes all the things we know and restores to them the rich significance which has been hidden by ‘the veil of familiarity.’” -C.S. Lewis
There’s nothing like turning to find only ocean. Everywhere. To know that it would take a day or more just to find land. It was a darker night than I’d ever
In a small West African city, dust clings to and thickly layers everything in sight. The impenetrable haze of harmattan settles over the city. Harmattan is a mixture of Saharan sand, smoke, and
A deluge of voices constantly reminds us that the world we see is hopelessly broken. Day after day, it becomes more apparent, and we can hardly ignore it. Yet we desperately want to.
The turtle tank gurgled softly in the corner of the classroom. I watched the turtle heads poke up for air before ducking back under the water. My seven-year-old self wanted to go swimming.