In the Stomach of a Damselfly

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SHORT STORIES Elaina Carter Man and Mountains Szua Lan Lee walks the mountains everyday. Wishing to grow stronger and stronger. He prays to the god of strength, whose creature form was a lion that walks the Earth. The lion is the most beautiful of them all, White fur shines so bright it hurts the man’s eyes. Szua Lan Lee was drawn to the glowing spooky hazelyellow-green-blue-ish great big eyes. He was not afraid for he knew what was to come The god of strength in it’s powerful-lion form speaks, break the silence “State what you’ve come here for”. Gar’s Life Summer swamp days filled with endless amounts of fun. Gators all lined up on shore. The biggest gator gets all the attention. They walk with a proud Strut, back flexed wide. Talk and strong as rocks. While I am just a Gator Gar the ugly cousin as you can see. Summer Swamp Days Hot like a sauna. Humid but I don’t mind. I mind the flowing steel bubbles interpreting my sun bathing. They speed by, and flood my home. I’ve seen some of those weird looking creatures leaving trash in front of my home. I Kevin (the otter) Oscar Myers, am the one who keeps this place safe. This is my home and my swamp.
FLACA Jacelynn Guzman Dancing. Parties. My mom likes to cook this soup, pozole, she always has to make tostadas with it. We all put chile in our soup. I’ve helped her cook it, but I suck at cooking. She makes it for Christmas and New Years. It makes me feel close. It smells like tortillas. The only time we sit down together with my family is to eat posole. My grandpa, every morning, watches his telenovelas on telemundo, you can hear the fighting in the background while you eat breakfast. The Virgin Mary. Candles. Altar. For dia de los muertos my mom makes a special altar. Thinking that there is an afterlife and that the person that you lost is next to you is cool. But ghosts scare me. Bachata. Horchata. Helping my mom make tortillas. Wet the masa til its soggy, form it in a ball and put it in the press. My mom loves Prince Royce. I used to hate my Mexican culture. People at my old school would call me white girl. They would ask “Is your dad illegal? Is your mom illegal? Are you illegal?” I appreciate my culture now. My culture is fun. The way we present ourselves if different. My grandpa has family in Mexico City that I have visited when I was little. Staying in an adobe house, riding horses. My grandma would sleep in the rocking chair. My grandpa would wake up and eat beans and eggs and coffee. We didn’t have much but in that moment surrounded by the people you know care for you it doesn’t really matter.
Page 1 and 2: IN THE STOMACH OF A DAMSEL FLY (A B
Page 3 and 4: INDEX THE LADY IN WHITE PIE THE EVI
Page 5 and 6: spread hundreds of thousands of see
Page 7 and 8: AN UNKNOWN RIVER Unknown How can yo
Page 9 and 10: Wild Iris Elaina Carter
Page 11: THREE SHORTS Zoey Miller The Alliga
Page 14 and 15: GETTING READY FOR TURTLE COVE Kyren
Page 18: WINTER SKY Andrew Vandegrift Ear Ya
Page 21 and 22: Entry Four Hop Hop Hop, watch me gr
Page 23: LOUD TURTLE COVE GIRLS Elaina Carte

In the Stomach of a Damselfly

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