Written by Yixuan (Eason) Liu from Shanghai Starriver Bilingual School, Shanghai, China A swarm of angels plunged from the sky with a craving for my blood and a hunger for my hair. Their wings carried white, shining sand from the sea, pelting my raw skin with a silky river of gems. In their hands they held a sapphire mirror– an emperor stared at me from its papery depths, stealing my smile to wear on his empty face. He stretched out his broken hand and took my umbrella, bit
Written by Hannah Xu from Massachusetts, USA Time has no spine here. It slumps, exhausted, spilling itself across bone and branch, its face drooping under the weight of remembrance. These clocks — they are not keepers of time, but witnesses to decay, to the quiet betrayal of routine and consistency. A tree grows from stone but bears no leaves, only the ghost of cycles that once made sense. In the corner, a face — if it is a face — sleeps without sleeping, its features slippin
