Volume 7 Issue 2


There is a house out in the woods.
Its windows are broken, spiderweb cracks shivering the glass.
Frost on the panes like dead ferns.
Snow has drifted up the house’s peeling, weatherworn sides.
Where shingles have fallen, cavities gape. The house’s gums are swollen.
Walls groan with the wind.
The porch has splintered into brittle shards. Warped with time, it buckles inwards.
Rains stain a mottled pattern in the dark paint.
The doors are gaping mouths.