Cobalt Issue 29 - Poison Apple

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GhostingThe ghost sat in his seat and pondered.He was known to do that in his past life; a brooding mess that contemplated existence. Hewould continue this habit late into the grave, endless days wondering the point of existing. Foryears he would watch his preserved skin transform into a leathery tan. How his nails wouldwither and chip as the bugs burrowed their way into the cheap wooden frame of the coffin. Hishollow bones and sunken eyes, clearly having rotted away in the coffin’s humidity.And after a couple decades of watching, of wondering, he had nothing else to watch. Only hisskeleton remained, not a bug in sight to feast on what was once his flesh.So, he travelled places. Not in the way that a ghost would haunt, but in the way a man whowas seeking refuge from the outside world would.A spot that is peaceful and devoid of noise. He much preferred it this way, it was easier tothink without the countless distractions that plagued everyday human life.Thus, he sat in his seat, a leathery contraption, briefly reminding him of the past before itquickly blended together with the present. When you’re dead, time isn’t something that’snecessary to keep track of. The thought amused him, the idea of actually being dead.Even in life, no one really knew what plagued the man’s mind to the point that he would spendcountless nights staring at the ceiling. And now, it had been centuries, and those same peoplewere in the grave beside his once preserved body. Yet he never met a single one of them indeath. It was as if he was alone in this world of intangibility. Never to be seen, never to beheard, never to be felt.So as the day turned to night, and the night turned to day, he hummed a tune that often playedin the café. Castor by S.A. Karl. And the world seemed calmer. The night seemed moresombre.To many, he knew it would drive them insane. But to him, he was finally at peace, in this worldof blissful silence.Alyssa Tingle
Anonymous
Page 2 and 3: President’s LetterDear readers,En
Page 7 and 8: SOPHIE EMENYEnchanted OmensBirds an
Page 9: I stared in the mirror, hands splay
Page 13 and 14: The need to survive is also an expl
Page 15: I still remember the fire that burn
Page 28: Photography for this issue includes

Cobalt Issue 29 - Poison Apple

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