

Child LandTaje's brother sees things with eyes like kaleidoscopes; twisted, beautiful, wrong in a nice way. He is a product of child land, because that is the way that this place works - crooked at first, you think in the bad way, but then crooked like the nursery rhyme. A crooked house. Lots of crooked houses. A crooked city.Child Land
Taje's brother is a million years younger than him Taje thinks, a million or four, they're both the same really. It's alright to see things that way when you're six but by ten it's time to be a little more realistic. Today is a day when the others listen to Taje, a whole herd of boys crowding around him, gazing avidl


PondThe thing with Lissy, was that she always had this look about her of someone ready for the worst. If the world as we know it were to end; if planes fell out of the sky and the internet imploded upon itself and all civilised society fell apart, she looked like the sort of person who would jump on an innocent investment banker like a ferrel cat and scratch his eyes out to get food, or weapons, or whatever it might take to survive an apocalypse. It was an extremely unnerving look and she always had it - when screaming, ranting and fighting, and when dragging a brush through her hair.Pond
Lissy got a liking for brushing her own hair not


He was.The skin between your fingers is dark And calloused from carelessly holding those wild cigarettes, and my eyes keep straying to the small round burns that form a constellation on your left arm. "Sometimes I hate myself," you shrug, like its something that anyone would do to themselves.He was.
You taught me to strum out chords on my dad's old guitar with your tough fingers that always knew what to do. I taught you the trick to folding paper stars, the
art in taking something flat, something meaningless, and turning it into something beautiful and real. But you


Age of ReasonAge of Reason Joe WorthenAge of Reason
Sammy takes a history quiz, dissects the word Lincoln and is left staring at the hidden L, clearly existing, like a bone. He looks up from his desk with a blank and ominous expression. The girls cant all wear make-up yet but Suzies mom lets her paint her fingernails and sometimes you can catch her looking at her hands like they are part of someone else, like shes not quite sure what theyre for.
A boy with a pig nose sits in time out on the perimeter of the playground, his face covered in dust, eyes bright, constructing Rome out of p