Issue 1 on Mehlima Bookden

Midnight Run - Part I

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

It was past midnight. Somewhere around 12:52 AM.

“Angel, please stop! Angel!”

The teenager’s heart kept screaming in his hoarse voice.

Making sure to blink in time and in accordance so that the slogged eyes do not lose the angel of his eyes.

The street lights played up with his heartbeat as he saw Angel running through while the cars honked at her. “Cyrus, stop! You cannot catch her!”

His mom, Heather, tries to slow him down by patting his back.

Outshine

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Stars that succeed in shining bright,
A night that guides our dreams tonight.
The couples, the lovers, the friends, or kids,
All sit on balconies, to quietly embrace nature’s lids.

The air is soft, the world feels still,
Each heart aligned with night’s sweet will.
A gentle hush, a quiet gleam,
Where thoughts drift lightly, touched by a warm beam.

The Upcoming

Mon, 01 Jan 0001 00:00:00 +0000

Every calendar changes in theme,
Let not any doctor say anything grim.
The days can challenge a story to trim,
Let not any professor throw in a scheme.

What happens, I wonder, with passing days?
The stories that pull a stutter, crawl back in some ways.
At knowledge, for each month shall only bring patience,
The stories of September or December cannot suffice in valence.

Yet morning light pushes us to gamble over time,
To subside or sleep tight, to declare it no crime.
Stitched in rules, we dare, we break;
To subside or settle through, our voice shall not creak.