Author: Christine Chu

POETRY | The Stylite by Christine Chu

Think not of me when the deep night lingers Kill me (if you can) but do not love me I pray you be safe from the taste of tears I was a songless dove, pure of desires Soaring with the clouds until you found me Think not of me when the deep night lingers We sang and danced through three wonderful years And found a home in an evergreen tree I prayed you be safe from the taste of tears Then I lost you (our songs still haunt my ears) I cried you an ocean; it drowned our tree...

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POETRY | Music Box by Christine Chu

revolving cylinder worn grey with honey gold stains plucking at loose tired tuned teeth on time-marinated steel comb making Pachelbel wobble at every wonky clang of Canon in D singing dust-coarsened melody that no longer glides but trudges and sinks only dainty little ballerina pink and poised     untouched by age still holds her perfect pose and spins on     tiptoe twirling to an unsung song of sacrifice     to the echoes of a mother’s muted heartbeat and a child’s first cry *** Header image by Daniel Tuttle on Unsplash. Hey guys, we’re looking for more short stories, poems and essays. If you’ve got some...

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POETRY | Ghazal: Of Mangoes and Sunbirds by Christine Chu

Children used to play pirates by the tree hunting sweet, golden treasures from the tree. In the heart of Eden, they willed to be like God and ate of the forbidden tree. With a worm in its beak for a hungry chick, a sunbird circles a silent tree. “Behave,” Grandpa would tell us, “or I’ll tie you up and hang you from the mango tree.” This year, Mummy leaves a gift—there used to be three, then two—under the Christmas tree. An empty nest hangs and quivers from a breaking branch as they chop down an old tree. “Behold, I...

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POETRY | Birthday by Christine Chu

Balloons line the wall of a room dimly lit by a flickering light, under which a table stands. In the corner of the room rests a silent telephone; on the table, a feast is served: four fried eggs, a three-bean salad, two large fried fish fillets and a birthday cake a chocolate cake with twelve candles unlit. At the table, a girl sits with three other empty seats and the makings of a broken heart, awaiting guests who may never come. *** Header image by Adi Goldstein on Unsplash Hey guys, we’re looking for more short stories, poems and essays. If you’ve...

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SHORT STORY | A Pregnancy Test by Christine Chu

The bus ride back to campus was a quiet one. It was six in the evening, but the sky had already darkened, glowing deep red through the pregnant clouds, till it seemed to be almost nightfall. Yi Xin looked away from the window to the sleeping figure beside her. Ming Shern sat slouched in his seat, his head falling forward. His faint snore was barely audible over the grumbling overcast outside; it was only when she felt his tensed muscles relax that she knew he was asleep. After the suspenseful visit to his hometown with two long-haul bus trips,...

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