Katrina Hayler I am the wind that soars. I can lift up the leaves from the ground and together we can twirl and we spin and we dance the quickstep. I can be a soft and gentle breeze that blows dandelions across fields and teasingly brushes against your skin. I…
By Dakota Brown ‘Tongue up.’ Cold metal is shoved into my mouth before I can even process her instruction. She doesn’t stop to let me adjust. She has no patience for me now. To her it’s probably a joke more than a concern that I’m always here. She thrusts the…
By Charlee Rose Murtough-Coombes “How sad.” they say when they look at the TV. They see the islands of rubbish and the oil spills, the dying reefs and the melting ice. They hear the complaints, the stories, the worries and concerns. Yet they just change the channel and ignore it….
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