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Crescent Lips

David Cheng saved the changes he’d made to Shan Shan’s Personal Statement and rose from his desk. He had an hour, and every few minutes he looked at his watch. Except for the plate-glass windows behind him, bookcases took up every inch of wall space. He could read something to make the minutes go by more swiftly, the kind of reading where his fingers would turn the pages whilst his head lagged behind his eyes. The cooler in the corner hummed.

Blood For Sale

They say it’s easier to drain the blood from the wrists and ankles, where it flows strong and rich, and where they heal more quickly, but of course you can cut them anywhere on their bodies, and they would still heal eventually. You can drain them all day long, and they will still live, albeit not in their best condition. There are some who do just that, draining them throughout the day, but the quality of the blood is often of weaker consistency, a lower grade, and they do not sell as well on the market.

The Letter

Lies are easy when nothing else makes sense. I managed to keep to the truth once — and not just when I was idealistic and young, but until I was much older too. The truth is never complete. That incompleteness has killed me over time, I suspect.

Says The Bells Of The Clement

He was born on the streets of Chinatown. Well, across the road at Upper Cross Street in People’s Park Complex to be exact. His delivery was performed by a midwife in KK Hospital to be precise; an impressively easy labour that lasted three hours from the start of contraction for a firstborn. Not a ragtag street urchin was Leonard Koh En, though he liked to tell people he was born in Chinatown just to test their reaction.

a misplaced bestiary
Part I: Found Animals b/w The Noise Rhapsodic Owl

Any musician will say that noise has no relation to music. Rhapsody, on the other hand, is the spiritual atmospheric essence of being, the highest, most ultimate refinement of our deep-founded conception of penetrative sound, the expression of the self’s vibrations through sound, the glory of the expanded, sound-filled ears, the delight of sound or a worldscape moving in memory, a brilliancy trembling with tones and color that ripple through vibrating eyes.

Hitler's Nightmare

Daniel Schaffer wrote and drew the autobiographical Strange True Tales for ten years, chronicling the extraordinary lives of ordinary people. He is currently working on a series of old Jewish jokes and fables that credit the astonishing ability of Jews to survive everything (so far).

Tragic Strip

T. Motley is the 2016 silver medalist in the Society of Illustrators' Short Form Comics competition, winning for a story he contributed to Cartozia Tales.


The Brooklyn Rail

SEPT 2016

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