'F' is for Fairy
By Luna Lark
My ship sails waters gleaming blue
Waters that reflect symmetrical you
With every wave so gracefully serene
My pure fondness of you grows amply keen
And as the gulls melt into a sky so profound
I suddenly feel as if my heart has been bound
To only one creature who has ever breathed
It is you who has enchanted me, I’ve always believed
By Christine Stoddard
There’s me and
And I ask you this
What shall we do?
Shall we weep
clinging to his lullabies
That we’ll go too?
_The Tale Of Mr. Rêvus
By Marius Herzog and ScriblabStudios
Eyes Like Emerald
By Connor Ludovissy
Harry looked out over the ocean for the thousandth time.
How long had it been since the world ended? How long since that fateful day when everyone was consumed by flame? Everyone else, anyway. He sat on the beach, letting the waves wash over him. Inch by inch he sunk into the sand, as if the Earth was trying to swallow up the one that got away.
“You’re not getting me,” he muttered, rising to his feet and brushing off his khakis. That’s what he had worn every day now for a long, long time –khaki pants, plus a short-sleeved dress shirt. As a young lawyer in San Francisco, he had always enjoyed dressing up. Of course, with everyone else gone, there wasn’t much of a point to it –but he did it anyway. It gave him a sense of familiarity in the unfamiliar world he inhabited.
Charlotte, his wife, tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around. “Honey,where are you going? You always spend your morning on the beach,” she said. Harry smiled weakly and ran his fingers through her long, blonde hair. She was the very picture of beauty and innocence.
“I have something to do,” he said. He looked into her sparkling green eyes. He used to get lost in those eyes. “Don’t worry. I won’t be long.” He walked up the porch steps to the back door and turned to look at the ocean one last time. Now,Charlotte and the boys were swimming. An instant later, she was teaching them to ride their bikes on the sand. Harry blinked and they were gone. He closed his eyes tight and fought back the tears.
He had rehearsed it countless times. It was practically impossible to screw up. He sat on the couch in the living room, staring out the front window and holding the Walther PPK to his chin. All he had to do was pull the trigger, and it would all be over. Simple as that. That’s all he had to do. It was simple, really –the only thing he had to do was squeeze the trigger, and-
Harry bit his lip and pulled the trigger.