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The monster extends its legs wide and big,
Dark against the sky of steel
And men gather to get to its top,
They bring their women
and their children,
They bring their rosaries and their leather bibles
Their linen sinks in the muddy roads,
Their worn shoes scratch against the paths of stone.

Doom, doom, doom
the monster’s heartbeat pounds
I hear it,
right beneath the ground.

My father used to take me there,
To the place under the amber-fazed cross
It shines, he said, with the mercy
of the blood spilled for our sins
But I didn’t see that;
My small neck
and my silly little eyes saw nothing,
nothing but the monster in the shape of a star.

Doom, doom, doom
The pulse pounds. Strong and angry
a drum echoing
through a crowded cave.

I shivered under its cold stance, under the eyes of the monster,
I’d never seen them, but I knew it had a thousand
All dark and hidden beneath trees
All looking down on me
You are seen
I hid myself under my father’s arm.
The sky thundered,
it always thundered as we went up, up, up.

Doom, doom, doom
the monstrous echo lingers
with every step,
with every breath.

Mother said they were just mountains,
But the black birds knew,
As they circled and rattled near the monster,
I could hear my fear in their croaks
Desperate,
drowned by thunder, bam!
each louder than the other
and booming from the mouth of the monster

Doom, doom, doom
I must’ve stepped on a vein
I feel it pump;
Up, up, down, down

We’d made it halfway up the path before lightning stoke,
It set the sky on blue fire and shook the ground to its core
My father and my mother knelt down
But I didn’t
I looked straight up, at the thousand eyes of the monster.
Under the blue flame of the sky, it looked down on me
You are seen
no one saw it, no one but me.

Doom, doom, doom
I looked to my right, then to my left—
and at last I saw its flesh, its arms, its legs
At last I saw the monster in the shape of a star.



No stranger to strong feelings, Vivienne Camille began translating her deepest emotions into ink. Soon, her words blossomed into stories with hearts of their own. Vivienne is now working on her first novel, scribbling on napkins, and reading—lots. Her first piece, "The Sea," was published in The Diamond Gazette. You can follow her on Instagram @viviennecamillev.
Current Issue
28 Apr 2025

By: Sofia Rhei
Translated by: Marian Womack
When the flint salamander stopped talking, its lava eyes dimmed and it sank back into the sand. Some of the scales on its upper body still poked out, here and there, as though they were part of no living creature, but simply stones scattered across the surface. 
Cuando la salamandra de sílex terminó de hablar, sus ojos de lava se apagaron y volvió a hundirse en la arena. Algunas de las escamas de su parte superior asomaban aún, aquí y allá, como si no formaran parte de un mismo cuerpo vivo, como si no fueran más que unas cuantas piedras dispuestas al azar.
By: Bella Han
Translated by: Bella Han
I am waiting for Helen on her fiftieth birthday. On the table, there’s a crystal drinking glass and a vase with rare orchids; I can’t tell if the flowers are genuine or not. Faint piano notes and a cold scent drift in the air.
我在等待海伦,为她庆祝五十岁生日。面前是一杯水,一瓶花。杯子是水晶杯,花是垂着头的兰花,不知道是真是假。
When the branches veer towards the ground you can/ climb the trees—up and up, just as you’d ditch/ ladder rungs you’re standing on.
Wenn die Zweige zum Boden geneigt sind kannst du/ auf den Baum klettern immer weiter so wie man/ die Leiter wegwirft auf der man steht
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