Photo by Sarah Taylor; Story by Heather Taylor
Waiting for the night bus, Molly notices a girl searching the street for another pair of paying eyes or that car that slows down for her legs alone. It reminds Molly of that night in a club, her barely out of school, when a guy led her to the toilets.
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Photo by Sarah Taylor; Poetry by Heather Taylor
Briefcase in his hand,
he remembers days outside
kicking backyard balls
Wheels spin into space,
he thinks about his future –
collars choking him
Photo by Becky Taylor; Poetry by Heather Taylor
Ribbons cut the sky like birthday decorations
and make a present of the atmosphere.
Lying on our backs we could be in Palastine,
Iraq or my uncle’s mid-prairie farm.
Photo by Sarah Taylor; Poetry by Heather Taylor
He stayed there most nights
and imagined summers
the buzz of bees and lawnmowers
combining into a symphony
Photo by Sarah Taylor; Fiction by Heather Taylor
Rebecca counted the toes over and over just like her Daddy told her to. 10 fingers and 10 toes meant he was OK. And OK meant he could come home soon. Yet still, every morning since the day they took her Mommy into the hospital, Rebecca played by herself in the playroom.
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Photo by Sarah Taylor; Poetry by Heather Taylor
Sometimes you lose it
Find yourself in a back streets
counting nickels to give beggars
Stop to help strangers with directions
Photo by Sarah Taylor; Poem by Heather Taylor
Just yesterday it was filled with voices:
A warm laugh, a baby’s first cry,
a mother mourning a first born
left home for his own happy marriage.
Photo by Sarah Taylor; Story by Heather Taylor
It was three in the afternoon when they drove past. They wouldn”t have seen it at all if she hadn”t needed to roll down her window for her fifth cigarette. Five in one hour wasn”t a personal best, but it was getting close. One hour. It was almost that long since they passed the last gas station. If Carrie knew it was the last one, she would”ve forced Kevin to pull over. She didn”t, so she dreamed of peeing instead and tried to block thoughts of waterfalls as she tugged quick puffs from her cigarette. That is until she spotted the perfect spot.
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