Our outward movements often encourage a turning inwards of our gaze, a reorientation of perspective.
Maya Gillett, Bystanding
Ryan Evans, Something Close To It
Zoe Ginsberg, Weight
Colin Anderson, Follow Me
Aubrey Pongluelert, Photo Essay: Shifting
Editor in Chief: Laurie Hovell McMillin
Assistant Editor: Jessica Grim
Editorial Assistant: Sarah Goldstone
Tech and Editorial: Liam McMillin
by Maya Gillett
At sixteen, I can see that they are so eager to help and so ready and that the woman across the desk is nodding along, humoring them, being kind, indulging this feeling. My parents—good people, thinking people—do not understand; I do not understand. None of us will ever understand.
by Ryan Evans
He’s meant to move. They can see it in his eyes and the way he wanders while he lectures. His feet shuffle like a James Brown bass line and he paces with the intensity of, well, not a tiger, but something. Something close to it.
by Zoe Ginsberg
My father made us breakfast every day, whether or not we wanted it. I always wanted it. I had two favorite things for breakfast—French toast with maple syrup and egg in a hat. I liked my food to have character.
by Colin Anderson
Kim was Dad’s friend. She was nice enough.