THE TEAM
The President
Meera Tioe
The Vice-President
Olivia Ope-Adeleke
The Prose Editors
Aakash Kulia and Hop Nguyen
The Poetry Editors
Felix Kam and Asira Yakubu
The Drama Editors
Anatole Guises and Crystal Obiekezie
The Contributors
Aveline Sexton
Ben Allan
Boluwatife Alade
Jonathan Turner
Lucy Philip
Scarlett Mitra
Taylor Booth
Zainab Javeid
EDITORIAL
Hello everyone!
It is with great excitement that we present the first edition Alba Lynes! Putting this together has been both a challenge and a joy, and I could not be prouder of what we have accomplished so far.
We started with prose, where our inspiration was ‘Grimm Fairy Tales in 100 words’. This gave us a chance to explore the darker, more mysterious sides of familiar stories. After that, we moved to poetry, with the prompt, ‘I Have a Dream.’ From playful dreamscapes to serious reflections, everyone interpreted it differently. Finally, we tried out hand at drama, using the prompt, ‘A Rooftop at Sunset’ to explore setting, tension and dialogue.
Putting this edition together, I’m reminded just how much talent there is in our group. Everyone's style is different, but each piece adds something special. I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as we've enjoyed creating it.
-Meera Tioe President of the Literary Society
Contents
PROSE
Slippers and Crowns by Meera Tioe
Fairest of Them All by Aveline Sexton
Fur Coats by Jonathan Turner
Sisters of Covenant by Boluwatife Alade
The Slit-Mouthed Woman by Hop Nguyen
Hansel and Gretel: #202 by Crystal Obiekezie
POEM
I Have A Dream by Lucy Philip
A Time Before Mine by Scarlett Mitra
Lucidity by Ben Allan
Never Ending Dreams by Olivia Ope-Adeleke
Stuck by Felix Kam
Dream of Death by Anatole Guises
Five More Minutes by Aakash Kuila
What I Cannot Undo by Zainab Javeid
Ghost by Taylor Booth
Broken Light by Aakash Kuila
Her Shadows, His Light by Meera Tioe
Rooftop Goodbyes by Olivia Ope-Adeleke
Stressed Strangers by Lucy Philip
The Divide by Zainab Javeid
‘Slippers and Crowns’
by Meera Tioe
They believed me, the poor girl in rags, rescued by love. Fools. The world whispered of an ashstreaked girl, of a tyrant stepmother and merciless sisters. Their pity paved my road to power. My stepmother was never cruel, my sisters never vicious. I painted them as monsters with trembling sobs and sweet smiles. The prince? Naïve. An abandoned slipper was enough to make him beg for my hand. Now I sit on a throne of silk and jewels while they kneel beneath me. Let them curse, for I needed no saviour. I conquered, and I was victorious.
‘Fairest of Them All’ by
Aveline Sexton
Clutching a dagger tightly in its shaking fist, the creature blurs in the candlelight. Its skin is marked. Its hair, plain. Lips pale and thin. Whispers of her soft, melodic voice suffocate my ear, her nauseating perfection pulsing through my head. My cloak is clammy. My crown, heavy. Never enough. Never enough.
I launch the blade. The mirror shatters before me. Like crows from a branch, shards of glass scatter. And yet as I stand alone in the quiet ruins of my self-hatred, palms damp with tears, the monster is yet to leave. It will never leave.
‘Fur
Coats’
by Jonathan Turner
Aspirittwistedbythesandsof time.Skarbnykafor that had always been her true name - sat almost jauntily, eerily, the frostbite creeping at her fingers. Fur coats lined the walls of her home all too cozily. For though she had been known as the guardian of treasures, all across the generations,hertruenaturelayunperturbed.
These were her treasures. Each as unique as the snowflakes that somehow drifted through solid walls into her lair. She twiddled her thumbs through icily blonde hair as the next lonely wanderer meandered towards her, whispering to her promises of becoming the nexthideliningherwall.
‘Sisters of Covenant’ by Boluwatife Alade
The first’s twisted smile spreads wide with grace. Only in death does her happiness endure, Sweet peace found in another's final face.
Electric lightning courses through her veins, The second, drunk on perfect bliss. She dances wild through others' dying pains, Euphoric from each death's dark final kiss. Only those worthy of his majesty she shall bring. The third fights the hunger in her chest, the first whispers into her ear, delusions some would call them but their purpose was what it was. trembling hands that clasp in prayer. The craving wins despite her soul's protest. A shivering blade bathes in ichor. This eternal covenant they bring in hopes that they may return to their god.
‘The
Slit-Mouthed Woman’ by Hop Nguyen
It started as a filter. A viral TikTok challenge. Smile wide. Wear the mask. Ask the question: “Am I beautiful?”
Then came the glitch. Users caught it in playback— frames they never filmed. Her face. Behind theirs. Too many teeth.
Influencers vanished mid-livestream. One whispered “She’s in the feed” before her screen went black. Reddit said it was marketing. ARG. An AI horror project.
Until someone traced the original upload. The account had no user. No email. Just coordinates— an abandoned hospital in Aomori, Japan. And a file: KUCHISAKE3.mov
Everyone who opened it reported hearing breathing through their phone speaker at night.
Now the filter applies itself. No delete button. No way out. Only her question. And the smile behind your screen.
‘Hansel and Gretel: #202'
by Crystal Obiekezie
Hansel and Gretel fled home: The witch was dead, and silence floated in the candy house… That was, until a grumble arose from the flames. The witch emerged, dusting off soot, and muttering murder. She rebuilt her trap: candy canes lining the path, candy corn scattered around, peppermints and bonbons restored, and the giant lollipop fixed in place. Wiping her nose on cotton-candy vines, her ears perked up, a smile inching close. “203rd time a charm...” she sang, slinking inside as hungry voices drifted near:
“Oh! Look! A candy house! I’m starving!” The witch’s grin widened and the deceit began again.
POETRY
AVE AVE
I HAVE A DREAM
by Lucy Philip
Dreams are kind, But mean sometimes. You fall asleep, Counting sheep, Exploring a land, Where you can be in a band, Or flying high, But you’re not sure why!
I have a dream, to see what hasn't been seen, And to be what someone has never been. Dreams are strange, not true, not fake, And to do whatever it will take, By doing something great, You can celebrate, Having a dream!
Life has its ups and downs, Its roundabouts, its fairgrounds. You can feel and think, In a world where everything is pink!
To fly in the air, Where you can meet a bear!
Dreams are amazing, so live them, experience them.
A TIME BEFORE MINE
The chime of the rusting bell echoes out, And we no longer have to comply. Rules and control dissolve for the day, Like a cloud disappearing into the azure sky.
by Scarlett Mitra
I hurriedly gather my books, chalk and slate, Blowing my dearest friend a kiss farewell as we part, With ink pots and compendiums tucked away, There’s nothing left to learn by heart.
A satchel rests weightlessly on my shoulder, My boots glide atop the dusty dirt track, As if waltzing to the most romantical tune, With not a single care on my back.
The path is ever knowing but never telling, Winding toward the heart of my country town. My long hair flows in the gentle breeze, Adorned with a lavender blossom crown.
Beams of liquid gold stream through canopies overhead, Saturating the forest of noble giants and earthly kings, Who take me as their worthy heir. But silence is broken by graceful flapping wings.
The blue jay whispers his soft song from his perch, And I hum it back across the trickling creek. We converse in a tongue that's long lost, Like classical Latin or ancient Greek.
When the vast plains emerge, the dry scent of harvest consumes the air, A far off doe grazes on the sweet clover, Eyes wide—alert, but not afraid. I want not to disturb you, I tell her kindly. I'll move over.
Mounting the chipped split rail, Chestnut greets me with a playful snort, A stamp of the hoof and a swish of the tail, And I am home at last.
But I can never truly be home, can I? My wish is an impossible one to grant, And I can do nothing but dream, For a time before mine—untouched by man's slant.
LUCIDITY
by Ben Allan
I had the world It bent at my will I could say “stop,”
And all would stand still
The dream was unreal; The dream wasn’t real
Confusion ensued
Words lost all sense
Time fractured itself
In echoes and dents
Instructions ignored Hope is all lost Dark clouds form–I wait for the rain
I am but a pawn
At the mercy of the worlds will
NEVER ENDING DREAMS by Olivia Ope-Adeleke
I had a dream I had the power to change, from my fairy lit room, as I turned onto the next page.
I was only 4 when I dreamt of dragons, princesses, even fairy-tale princes. I dreamt I went from the bottom of the barrel– from absolute rags to riches. I smiled as my mum brought me book after book, The Princess and the frog, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty– I was even excited by Captain Hook. I imagined us scheming deep in the nooks and crannies of the pirate's crook, and taking all the treasure before my mum had the chance to close the book.
In my dreams, I spun around like a princess, just as Belle swiped a book from me with swiftness. We ran around the beast's castle, laughing and playing just like I had always imagined. “I must make the most of this” I thought, as I ran after her with boldness.
“Oh! You must meet the Beast!” Belle said, clutching the book she had once snatched, I had never imagined we would be so well-matched. “You see..” I stuttered, clutching my small frame, "I'm scared I will get hurt– Or accidentally make a rude claim.” Belle looked at me with awe in her eyes, she kneeled to my level– sympathy mixed with utter surprise. “Never back down to a challenge. Never waver.” She smiled. “You are as precious as rubies, as stunning as gold. As brave as a lion, and as stubborn as a metal pole. There are so many things that make you the way you are, no one would ever hate that, no one at all.” I gleamed at her, but suddenly my vision went blurry. “Thats all the time we have.” I realised, as I drifted off to the next memory.
In the next dream, I floated amongst the ‘Neverland pirates’, “Never say never!” Peter smiled through a hearty chuckle, but in real life, mum always got angry whenever I said “Never!” to get into the car without my seatbelt buckled. Tinkerbell sprinkled me with fairy dust and so we flew through the night, “You can do anything you put your mind to here.” Peter said, and when I awoke, I was 9.
I had a dream I had the power to change, as I held the plastic stethoscope to my mum's chest. “I tell you mum, I promise I'll be the best.” A real stethoscope dangling from her neck. “I don’t doubt it.” she smiled, “But please Olivia–
Stop going into the medical kit!”
I was only 9 when I rattled in the garden, looking for my next patient— somebody sickly, that had something I could help with. “Your baby sister is too small!” Mum rattled from the back door, “And your little brother is too rough! You’re daddy is way too busy, and my job is getting tough.” I puckered my lips and slid my tongue between the gap my two front teeth had left behind. If no one wants to play with me, I guess I would have to find my own crowd. In my dream world, no one ever had work to do. Nothing ever had to change. Everyone always wanted to play, and skip, and sway. After brushing my teeth, having a hot bath and dad reading me and my siblings a story, I slid into bed and waited for my next incredible journey. The soil hospital was really there! I had patients galore! They were all lined up for me, cheering my name and all. In my hospital, all types of animals arrived. Cats, Kitsunes–even bats who complained their hearing wasn't as good as it used to be, and they kept on bumping into walls. I cared for each patient, made them feel at home– and felt happy when I could send them back to their real homes. I could hear my critters singing, “This doctor is one of a kind! She fixed us all up and made us smile!” I couldn't help but grin, as my dreams of 9 came alive.
I had a dream that I had the power to change. From the desk of my room, to the flick of uploading my videos to my page. When I was 11, I didn’t just dream in storybooks anymore. I dreamt of flashing lights, red record buttons, and the idea of being someone who could make a real change. My bedroom became a stage, my desk lamp a spotlight. I would sit cross-legged, rehearsing my jokes to no one but the reflection of my ipad. “Hey guys, welcome back!” I’d project into the lens, pretending millions were listening, like i was the one who would give them a comfort cleanse. I laughed at my own bloopers, the way I tumbled over my own words, rewinding clips again and again until the cuts felt like something I could behold.
In my dream world, the comments section overflowed with kindness, people typing from across the globe, probing for my next big hit. Waiting for me. I went to bed with my phone under my pillow, imagining the ping of notifications as a little girl or boy enjoyed my video. I had so many people I could look up to, I wanted to be that for someone too. That was the year my dreams were lit by a diamond play button and the idea of being loved by the whole world, and maybe even a few I admired too…
I knew I had once dreamed I had the power to change, but dreams are like rivers, twist and they bend. By 16, my dreams had took a sharper end. Gone were the dreams of tiaras, the ones of pirates too. The dreams of stethoscopes? Gosh, who even knew! Now a new dream was waiting, strong and proud. It doesn’t come dressed in glass slippers, or hide in the depths of pirates cove. It doesn’t sparkle through a camera lens, or hide in the heartbeat of a stethoscope. Now my dream is of a courtroom, a book heavier in my hands. I see myself standing tall, not afraid to speak, not afraid to fight, not afraid to be who I am.
But even now, I know dreams don’t stay the same. I know this is only one chapter, and the whole story may not be the same.
My dreams keep shifting, keep on stretching before me, because in the end, they were always bigger than me. Because all along, whether I was four or nine or eleven or sixteen, I wanted the power to change, to be a part of the wider story. It is in every choice I make, every voice I raise, every step I take forward. They are all me, but not all I will be.
I had a dream I had the power to change, and I still do, because my story is the furthest it will ever be to be finished, and my big dreams will go on forever— never to be diminished.
STUCK by Felix Kam
I cannot escape it I cannot evade it and I am not oblivious to it
Negotiate, Argue, Rebute
Nothing will ever compute to them
For I am stuck and oh shucks
In this building a prison, a suffocating one I must say On the pillow my head will lay to keep the thoughts at bay
I am taken to a freedom of youth, arduous shackles lifted indefinitely
However the joyous thoughts end abruptly to the reality of facades and eternal lies of compromise
But perhaps there’s a reason for endless worry and protectionism It may lie in their age or just out-right absurdism
Maybe one day I'll appreciate it
Maybe one day I'll miss it
But for now I resent it for I am a teen STUCK under their roof waiting to go aloof
DREAM OF DEATH by Anatole Guises
I had a dream of death
Drowning, losing my breath
Desperation, sinking, sinking…
Death's cold embrace got me thinking.
What if I had died
Who would remember my eyes
Who would feel sorrow
Maybe I'll be forgotten tomorrow.
Selfish thoughts in my mind
I hope I’m not left behind Who really knew me before I went A lifetime seemingly misspent.
Nothing can save me now, At death's doors I’m forced to bow.
First love, wasted on deaths kiss Now I realise, what was there to miss?
Lady death, I’m scared of her
They say love lasts forever
Only death can put that to the test.
Regret. I didn’t do my best.
Only in dreams is death drawn so clear, A shadow of fear, whispers so near. In wake, visions fade, But in sleep, death is real, a blade.
FIVE MORE MINUTES
by Aakash Kuila
She’s perfect
If you saw her
The way I saw her
You’d say so too
I close my eyes
And all I see is her
Her vibrance fills up my world
Brightens every corner of the wonderland
Her voice fills my head
Echoing through every hall and corridor
Her eyes the color of a magical forest
That I’ll sit in for hours
Reminiscing of better days
I run through fields of barley
Endlessly flowing into the horizon
And I can only think about the days
I’d run my hands through your hair
Not knowing that those days
Were not in fact endless
But then all too suddenly
Everything fell apart
My fantasy world disappeared
And the bitter reality struck me hard
I open my eyes
But you’re not there anymore
Not by my side
Anymore
You wake up next to someone else
As you did yesterday
And as you’ll do tomorrow
I shut my eyes
As tight as can be
And only beg
Beg to be taken back to my dreamland
To spend 5 more minutes with my girl
For every time I wake up
The pain that I feel
Is just as torturous as the day I lost you
WHAT I CANNOT UNDO
by Zainab Javeid
The ceiling melts like candle wax, dripping his name. Corridors coil into themselves, folding, stretching, impossible. The machines grow mouths, gnawing at the air with metallic teeth.
IV stands twist into skeletal fingers, reaching.
The walls breathe, inhaling regret, exhaling fear.
His eyes float in the corners, unblinking, unwatchable. Mirrors fracture, spilling my face into screaming shards. Time folds like paper, moments leak backwards, sideways, nowhere. Voices crawl from the floorboards, whispering what I cannot undo. The bed twists, swallowing him into a single shadow.
Every step I take drags me backwards through memories which bleed. I run, but every hallway coils, leading me back into that room.
The floor feels liquid, sliding, impossible to trust. The machines pulse, mocking, merciless, suffocating. And when I wake, his stillness is heavier than the dark.
GHOST by Taylor Booth
Everyone thought we were perfect together, you could tell from the envious looks, as we strolled down the rainy road, one arm encased around her, the other gripped onto the umbrella.
I was over the moon, whenever we were by ourselves; the sunsets at the beach, the roasting food from the restaurant, and tonight’s warmth by the fire.
The fire was lit, heating me like I was the beef, that we had the night before, I listened to her every move, the opening of the drawers, the rustling through the cutlery, her graceful steps back towards the fire.
I felt something strange on my back, something sharp, something suspicious, before I could turn around everything faded, dimmed into the darkness, almost as if the fire had been put out…
I looked around frantically, only to see that my body was limp, eyelids shut firm. Blood was pouring down the sofa, where we had our most precious points in time.
I heard a maniacal laugh, a laugh from someone that I used to think loved me, someone who I loved to the moon and back. It was her, holding a blood-tipped knife…
I tried shouting, yelling even, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t be heard.
I was now dead, looking onto the world as a ghost.
I pinched myself hard, sweat starting streaming down my face, as my eyes opened sharply. I looked around, the warmth still surrounded me, not that of the fire, but that of her, wrapped around me like armour, as I slowly start to understand what happened.
I was having a nightmare
DRAMA
Broken Light by Aakash Kuila
Christopher and Xavier stand on a city rooftop at sunset, the golden light fading as silence rises from the streets below - Christopher finally breaks the silence.
CHRISTOPHER This is it then?
Xavier doesn’t reply, but breathes a heavy sigh.
CHRISTOPHER This is what we’ve come to? We are all that remain? The last 2 people who still remember how things were, before.
XAVIER Before. Before all this.
Xavier gestures to the city below with his bloody hands.
CHRISTOPHER It’s funny really. How quickly everything ended. It feels like months ago we’re sitting around the fire Rose and Ji-Min and the others.
Christopher chuckles.
XAVIER Rose. Rosie.
Xavier starts sobbing at the name of his late wife. Christopher places a hand on Xavier’s shoulder, attempting to comfort his friend.
CHRISTOPHER I’m sorry, my friend. But the least we can do is be thankful she’s in a better place. And you will join her soon.
Xavier wipes the tears from his eyes.
XAVIER But, what about you? I can’t leave you, Chris. All alone. The region will find you, and I can only imagine the torture you will have to suffer.
CHRISTOPHER No need to worry about me, my friend. My services to the fragments are still required. But I too, will join you in the fragmentation, soon enough.
The two stand in silence as they watch the darkness consume the city.
XAVIER It is almost time, my friend. I wish you the best of luck in your endeavours. May the Fragments protect your soul.
CHRISTOPHER Likewise, Xavier.
The two friends embrace each other, as the final glimmers of the sun disappears beyond the horizon. Christoper starts heading back inside, but Xavier remains at the roof.
CHRISTOPHER Don’t miss me too hard.
Christopher heads through the door, not at all ready to face the Region.
Xavier breathes in the evening air once more, before leaning over the railing, and allowing the Fragmentation to take his soul
Her Shadows, His Light by Meera Tioe
Two people stand on a city rooftop at sunset, the golden light fading as silence rises from the streets below-one finally breaks the quiet
A rooftop at sunset. The city stretches out below, wind blowing strongly, the sound of traffic is faint below. Lyra and Cassian step into view.
LYRA (walks ahead, resting her elbows on the railing, eyes on the skyline)
CASSIAN (follows behind Lyra, hands shoved in his pockets, gaze lingering on Lyra before drifting to the city.) Funny, isn’t it? How small everything looks from up here. (Steps forward, gesturing at the city.) The cars, the people, rushing everywhere.
LYRA (Exhales) Exactly. Running in circles, it’s like life’s reduced to a checklist. I’m exhausted just watching it.
CASSIAN (Smiles, leaning an arm on the railing beside her.) I don’t know… I think people are just…. Trying. And maybe that’s okay.
LYRA (Laughs, shaking her head slightly.) You and your sunshine philosophy. You never seem to see how worn out the world looks.
CASSIAN Maybe it’s worn out, but even then, there are small moments. The moments where time actually slows down.
(A pause. Lyra glances sideways at Cassian.)
LYRA Wanna get pizza?
CASSIAN Only if it’s Hawaiian
(Lyra huffs a laugh, rolling her eyes. Cassian grins at her. They turn, walking away side by side.)
Rooftop Goodbyes by Olivia Ope-Adeleke
At the dim golden glow of the California sunset, the previously full streets down below, were empty. Kaylani stood face to face with Isiah. Kaylani, timid and overwhelmed with the thought of confrontation, bit at her bottom lip and fiddled with her silver bracelet— It showed its age through the bronze discoloration and array of scratches. Isiah, who was opposite Kaylani, stood in content silence. Confident yet otherwise overbearing. Isiah stepped forward, daring to break the silence of the night.
ISIAH (Grinning) You actually read my message? (He chuckles softly… silence pours between them for a while.) So you are really leaving, huh Kay?
Kaylani puts her weight on her heels.
KAYLANI If I don’t leave now, I don’t know if I ever will. (She steps forward.) My life… is a lot bigger than this town. Or, at least that’s what you told me.
Isiah looks taken aback she remembered, he recoils slightly, but quickly recovers.
ISIAH I’m surprised you remember anything I said. (Isiah leans over the banister, overlooking the quiet road below.) Seriously, Kay. I'm proud of you.
KAYLANI I’ll come back to visit, I promise.
Isiah scoffed, but smiled weakly.
ISIAH Don't let me hold you back.
Stressed Strangers
by Lucy Philip
Two strangers, John and Tom, have had stressful days at work. They are in London, on a rooftop and both work in an office block, but in different offices. It’s sunset and both are out getting fresh air outside. They bump into each other and share stories about their day.
JOHN What are you doing outside on the rooftop?
TOM I have had a stressful day at work today so I thought I should get some fresh air before heading home.
JOHN I have too. What was stressful about your day?
TOM I burned some toast today and then the customer got so angry they demanded for a full refund on everything they got when nothing was wrong with anything else. My boss was so angry he nearly fired me from working there. I had to give the angry customer £40 when they only paid me £20!
JOHN Sounds like it was a stressful day for you. Today was a day when everyone's mistakes of the month were read out in front of our colleagues. I got screamed at by my boss about forgetting to tie my tie correctly one day and writing incorrect information on some documents.
TOM At least we understand how each other feels. Just think, tomorrow is a new day and we can always learn from the mistakes that we made today.
JOHN What I think is most unfair, is how we’ve been treated by our bosses today.
TOM I just know that the cafe will fall into serious issues because of what I did today. They might even have to close because of me!
JOHN What I did this month will have such an effect on the business I work at because if 20 complaints are issued at our monthly mistake meetings, we could be forced to lose half of our branches worldwide!
TOM Why can’t just the London branch close?
JOHN I really don’t know. Oh no, look at who’s coming over to us!
(Both look at each other with terrified expressions as their bosses approach them.)
TOM’S BOSS (angry) See you on Monday, Tom!
TOM (embarrassed) Yes, boss!
JOHN’S BOSS (angrier than Tom’s Boss) Well, see you after the weekend, John!
JOHN (more embarrassed than John) Yes, Boss!
John and Tom’s bosses mutter to themselves as Tom picks up his apron and John picks up a work bag crammed with paper as they exit downstairs.
The Divide by Zainab Javeid
The two strangers stood face to face, both running from something they can’t face.
CHIP (taunting) Careful. One wrong step and I’m gone.
DALE (voice sharp, cutting) Don’t tempt me. Maybe the world would breathe easier without you tearing through it.
CHIP (smirks, masking pain) There it is. The truth. You want me gone as much as they do.
DALE (snaps, grabs his collar) I don’t want you gone. I want you to stop running! (pauses) You’re reckless. You drag everyone down with you. And you don’t care who gets hurt.
CHIP (shoves him back, yelling) Don’t act like you’re different! You enjoy it! The fights, the power, the thrill of it. You’re no savior! (breathing heavily, mutters quietly) And if I can’t stop running? If standing still means facing everything that’s eating me alive?!
DALE (steps closer, eyes burning) Then let it eat you. But don’t drag me down into your grave.
CHIP (breath ragged, voice low) You think you can survive without me? You’d fall apart.
DALE (leans in, deadly quiet) Then test me. Jump. See if I follow.
Silence. The wind howls. They stand inches apart, both shaking- with rage, with fear, with something neither can name. The quiet city waits below them.
A huge thanks to everyone who shared their work, and a special thanks to our editors for helping with reading, editing and shaping everything into what you’re holding now.
If you are interested in submitting a piece to the next issue, whether it be prose, poetry, or drama, please contact our editorial team via their school email addresses or in person in F26 each Tuesday lunchtime. See you in the next edition!