Speaking of sorrow and happiness. Telling a short story with a new voice. Speaking with a mouth of words. Soft as a baby’s cheek. Poem. Matteo Vita Harris, 9Astoria, New York
September/October 2013
The Owls of Morovia
“I’m swimming in that lake whether you’re coming with me or not” “Annabelle, I just don’t think this is a good idea,” my best friend said nervously. “I mean, the sign even says, ‘Private Property: No trespassing, No swimming, No exceptions!’” “Oh, come on, Sarah! Nobody’s home right now anyway,” I replied. I enjoy having […]
