by Louella Lester

No one lives above us, but there is a woman who is part of the refugee family that lives across the hall. When she is there alone her screams sometimes escape. Slide right under our door where they wait for translation.

* * *

Louella Lester is a writer/photographer in Winnipeg, Canada, author of Glass Bricks, contributing editor at NFFR, and is included in Best Microfiction 2024.
​Instagram: @louellalester  
Bluesky: @louellalester.bsky.social    

by Bernard Pearson

In the  cradle
Of our last night,
When all things hang
In the balance of time
Will we see, really see?
The world that dies with us,
or the one that has waited
So patiently, for our return.

* * *

BERNARD PEARSON: His work appears in over one hundred and thirty publications worldwide, including; Aesthetica Magazine, The Edinburgh Review, and Crossways. In 2017 a selection of his poetry, In Free Fall, was published by Leaf by Leaf Press.