Tag Archives: fall 2014

[Like Home (project:northside) / Samantha Cypret]

http://projectnorthside.wordpress.com/ “What is Ocala like?” “It’s like Rachelle’s backyard, only everywhere.” There’s a comfort in each step I take. I walk across the millions of fallen pine needles to an outlet of water that remains the same temperature all year. … Continue reading

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[An Open Letter (or: An Indulgence in Sentimentality) (project:northside) / Leonard Owens III]

http://projectnorthside.wordpress.com/ Most (nay, all) of my life, I haven’t been a morning person. The allure of fresh coffee and gooey pastries and people bustling their lives out into the breaking day has never infected me. Now and then, I’ve strolled … Continue reading

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[Whore Movies and Bug Sex (project:northside) / David Castleman]

http://projectnorthside.wordpress.com/ I was sure I’d be late, having gone to bed hardly 4 hours ago, completely hung-over, and driving all the way across town, into the heart of the north side of Jacksonville. I had never been there, and even … Continue reading

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[Attention, Jackrabbit (Therian Tales) / Jeff Jones]

Therian Tales To respire the universe. She’d like for everyone to at least almost know what that feels like—to stand under fur-black space and be full and warm from the night’s spreading vacancy. “You are all part of that. Let … Continue reading

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[Dragonfly Summer (Therian Tales) / Kyle Peterson]

Therian Tales Where the trees part and the water-lapped lily pads undulated before the reflections of clouds on the open lake, someone approaches. He keeps his head low and she materializes from the leaves like four-winged fliers, but his vision … Continue reading

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[Fish (Therian Tales) / Alexa Velez]

Therian Tales The water falling from the sky was a strange sight. Raindrops splashed into the creature’s vision as dark clouds faded in and out, blending into angry smears. Between shallow breaths, shriveled lungs ached, not knowing how to pull … Continue reading

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[Seal Skin (Therian Tales) / Katieanne Randolph]

Therian Tales A palm reader told her once that she had salt on her skin, crusted into the creases of her hands. She remembers this, remembers the lights flashing on the fair rides and the smell of funnel cake and … Continue reading

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