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Full-Text Articles in Arts and Humanities
Tick. Tock., Josue Cornier
Tick. Tock., Josue Cornier
The Angle
In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay's first paragraph.
"Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. I am the crumbling rocks. I am the old and the ancient. I am the things that get lost. I move smoothly yet slowly. I am the Now and the Later. I am Time."
After The Curtain Falls, Jacob Hillis
Impro-Vision, Jacob Hillis
Impro-Vision, Jacob Hillis
The Angle
In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay's first paragraph.
"I love to look out on my cousin's pond, the ice nearly two inches thick, deep ridges cut into the surface with the many scalpel like blades of our Michelle Quan imitations. The cat tails frozen in time with snow snuffing the tips of their protruding bobs. My foot squished into little white numbers...two sizes too small."
Addiction, Nick Picariello
Pillow Talk, Destinee Paynter
Twisted Hearts, Destinee Paynter
At The Beach, Graham Wilcox
Hank Iii At Night, Graham Wilcox
Jose Cuervo, Gina Cardarelli
Spiders, Skye-Raven Drey
Celia's Art, Skye-Raven Drey
Full Issue, No Author
Preliminary Pages, No Author
Papa, Sarah Christy
Tarnished, Destinee Paynter
Grotesquely Edward, Jamie Lasda
St. Lawrence River, Laura Donk
St. Lawrence River, Laura Donk
The Angle
In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay's first paragraph.
"The boat thrust forward under the power of his arms as he pulled back the oars. Smoother, harder, faster as he went. He had no intention of stopping. He was in his own head now. Harder, faster, the oars back and forth, harder, faster. In his own head not seeing, not hearing. The ripples and the waves that he created were crying out to him, "Stop!" The river helplessly cried out for his attention but the river's concerns were not his. Not now."
Conjurations Of The Sacred Traveler, Eric Szewczyk
Nights' Lights, Tom Jewell
Solitude, Amanda Marchese
Danger, Passion, Selena Cochran
Danger, Passion, Selena Cochran
The Angle
In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay's first paragraph.
"It's much too dangerous to think about passion. Not the chintzy, wussified run-of-the-mill slag kin to the sappy droning of today's lyricists, or the crude rhetoric eternized in tasteless soap operas; not even the sickening popularity of tawdry mantras immortalized on hats and t-shirts. No, not these; but true passion, real passion is like a deep, throaty hunger that kicks and rages at your innards, feeding on your convictions until quenched. It gnaws - bathing the psyche in awes and crippling fears - emasculating sense and logic. Yes true …
Autumn, Julie Mariuz
Bathing In Serenty...Soap, Anybody?, Destinee Paynter
The Lighthouse, Katelynn Smith
War At Sea, Justin Mawhir
War At Sea, Justin Mawhir
The Angle
In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay's first paragraph.
"The sun was warm on our backs as we stepped out of the car and our shoes, and into our lives for the week. The breeze was fresh and sprayed with mist from the ocean. The air was easy and flowing. The only tension on the island could be found on the clothesline where towels of various colors and origins were hanging, waiting to be used. The road was strewn with sand, and the only bare spots that could be seen were where some car from whereabouts unknown had …
Tragic, Really, Justin Mawhir
Roots, Sarah Christy
Mirror Child, Mike Wolfe
Be Again, Elias Van Son
With / Out You, Elias Van Son