Written by Victoria Stafford
My mistress lures me, dressed in sav’ry red, Golden complexion blush a sultry cheek. Say soft; say pure! She waltzes straight ahead To paradise of blasphemous mystique. In all this time I have fail’ed to see The Gods ward off temptation, though I plead! But I’ve ne’er met another fair as she; Such sinful passions -- strong they often bleed. I navigate through this heated affair; Embrace the scandal, each kiss I savor. My temptress’ lips (I can’t resist, I swear!) -- Each curve a masterpiece, such sweet flavor! And so is the charm of my lover and savior: The Almighty Wendy’s Triple Baconator.
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Written by Kaylee Kowallis
The glow of the figure’s enormous, luminescent eyes was dimmed slightly as its thick lids lowered and the face contorted into a sinister grin that was really more of a grimace. It’s raspy, clicky voice grated against Jern’s ears. “Your humor will be the death of your species.” “Yeah, because your plans always work out so perfectly.” Jern’s fingers were working furiously behind his back. Locks and handcuffs, like sarcasm, had always been a specialty of his. “Oh, but they do, do they not? You are here, trapped and imprisoned, and the fate of your species lies in the balance. All because that little tongue,” the creature made an expression of disgust at the word, “of yours had to twist itself into our affairs.” Jern stuck his tongue out and wiggled it then laughed as the creature squirmed uncomfortably and turned away. “It matters not. You are finished.” Written by Jacob Coppin
It hurt. I looked down, and watched as my gash seemed to gurgle and spit crimson. “Jokes on you, I look better in red.” I smirked. The monster in front of me contorted its face, it’s eyebrows more slanted, it’s cocky smile folding down. “Your humor will be the death of your species.” It’s tone was gruff, low, and demonic. “Maybe. But I’d rather die laughing than live crying.” I smiled, stood up, and although the ground swayed beneath me, I was ready for round 2. Written by Winona Bhushaun
A microscopic being, Harmless as it seems, Has plans misleading. Starting small, It greets an ant With its downfall. A winged creature eats the poor thing. Not knowing… What she’s really getting. It flies about singing joyously Until, along comes a predator Sly and accurate. After its satisfying feast, It races inside, To the defenseless family that awaits. The parasite smiles. Its life fulfilled, As it reaches its final host. |
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June 2017
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