lp-1.jpg

Hi.

Welcome to Fitchburg State’s award-winning literary journal. We hope you enjoy the read!

Next Stop, Hell

Next Stop, Hell

BY CONNOR MCPHERSON

He calls,

Hot and wet

His voice stings

Like a thousand needles in my ear.

I drive,

Chauffeuring the damned

To a fiery abyss.

Speeding through walls of flames,

His blue eyes pierce through

My every move.

Iridescent shades of red

Luminate the back row of worn seats,

Reflecting frightened faces in my rearview.

Do they know they’re dead?

The Loss of the Ones Who Care

The Loss of the Ones Who Care

Reflections on a Showerhead

Reflections on a Showerhead