



HALLELUJAH, NEVERTHELESS by Sarah Carson


My subconscious is unaware that I am no longer capable of giving piggyback rides to other adults.


The next day, I bought the cheapest plane ticket I could find and booked a night in the Super 8 outside of Coeur d’Alene. The room had red checkered half-curtains and free toothpaste.

I’ve found that hobbies are a great way to distract yourself from the fact that it’s too late to realize your potential.

A fissure opened in the earth. The car found it, slowing in the way that makes you realize how fast you were going.

Our Land turns particularly bleak at night; bicycles are stolen and dumpsters are torched. In the morning, users who sleep rough light spoons and burn up powders in front of little kids going to school.