Nathan William Meyer
Irena Raičević
Nathan William Meyer
The Drop
Jana Živanović
Nathan William Meyer
The Environmentalist
Danica Popović
Nathan William Meyer
Saška Stojakov
Nathan William Meyer
Katarina Šotić

A girl in a city in a country in the world.


LEVEL: twenty-four going on five

      Strength: one thousandth of a sun

      Stamina: would be outrun by poultry

      Agility: thrice tripped over air

      Knowledge: gathering it

      Spirit: dainty

      Will: still looking for a way

TRAITS: Sarcastic, sleep-deprived, and mean at times. Fears changes and things that go “bump” in the night. Enjoys evenings, arguing within an inch of her life, and Defense against the Dark Arts.




          IF I AM FIVE YEARS OLD and feel no guilt for stealing a toy from my friend, it is because I have no loyalty to her, she isn’t really that great a friend because she never lets me play with her dog, and I hold no fear from the grown-ups because I can hide it well enough in the smallest pocket of my trousers. No one will know or notice a thing, because the tiny toy set has lots of parts, and the one I take is just one out of three, but it is blue, so it is the best and she totally doesn’t deserve to have it.

          I am around seven years old and will soon start going to school when it is suddenly freezing in April and I decide to wear two pairs of socks because I am sure I will die on the way there as these temperatures aren’t normal my father said, and not-normal temperatures mean it’s the apocalypse. Coming home, my mother greets me with screaming at me for behaving like I’m homeless and wearing all the clothes I have, because then we look like a poor family and I have no idea what the teachers at the kindergarten will say about me now. Well, I’m quite sure I did nothing wrong, because I was just cold and there was wind beating against the windows outside and if I wore more layers it meant the wind couldn’t take me. She slaps me hard because the wind cannot think or take people and there is no Oz, and my ear starts to continuously beep like when you can’t properly tune a stereo set and my head swivels so I can’t focus my eyes well. Once I can feel the floor underneath my knees and the worn rug beneath my fingers but not the flesh of my left cheek, I look her in the eyes and notice that they are unremarkable, rather brown and terribly plain. I see her angrily opening and closing her mouth with flecks of spit flying around it and the loyalty I had flies out the window as well, and with the stereo in my head still un-tuned I decide that the technicolour of her eyes is the ugliest thing I have ever seen, including the doll my aunt tried to give me last Christmas, and I know I will never tell her anything about me ever again.

          In my second grade, I am told that all humans were once together, built with four arms and four legs and two heads, and they were pairs who eternally loved each other and were part of one being until they did something wrong and a Force made them part. That’s why you are always looking for that other half now, so the comfort in knowing there’s someone out there who is definitely a part that will match you gives you hope in the never-ending search. Read more...

Nathan William Meyer
The (In)Difference
Jelena Petrović
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A Trans-European Issue
Jovana Ivetić
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Anica Marković
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Nevena Todorović