An Online Literary Journal for Poetry and Flash

Tag: unrequited love

Julia and Chang

Fiction by Brett Scott

And here’s the opening, the opportunity you’ve been waiting for, Julia told herself, looking in Chang’s direction, who now sat alone on the other side of the garden. His assistant, after seeing him to a comfortable spot and getting all of his various affairs in order, had promptly left him unattended, which was a rarity as far as Julia had seen this week. Although she and Chang had known each other as children, he was eventually transferred to California, leaving the two out of touch. Chang was famous now, and far too good for her, as far as Julia was concerned. In truth, his success was somewhat more modest than she understood, but his image did grace screens and billboards across the country. He had returned to Omaha just a handful of times on his promotional tours, and Julia had finally worked herself up to trying to reconnect with him on his present trip.

The garden was Julia’s favorite place. In the middle of a bustling and chaotic world, she had only this small piece of paradise. The sunlight, filtered through the shade of the lofty trees, gave her body comfort, and the sound of the softly trickling stream gave her spirit peace. And although she couldn’t believe he had started showing up there out of the blue that week, she was overcome with excitement to see him again. Just do it, Julia. It’s now or never, she encouraged herself, standing up from her spot beside the stone wall.

Slowly and nervously making her way across the garden, she watched as some of the passersby took notice of Chang. This was normal for him, she thought. As they smiled and pointed, he simply nodded back politely and resumed his business. Steadily, in only the time it took for her to advance, Chang’s number of gawkers increased to the proportion of a small crowd. Chang remained ever stoic, even as the cluster began pulling out their phones and pointing their cameras toward him.

Chang, peering subtly around the garden in hopes of catching a glimpse of his assistant’s return, instead noticed Julia, who now stood only several yards away beneath the shade of a pine tree. They smiled at each other, and Julia thought she saw his face warm with the spark of recognition. But just as quickly, Chang bowed his head politely, yet indiscriminately, toward her and then resumed anxiously scanning the grounds for his assistant. Discouraged, but not defeated, Julia approached Chang.

“Chang! I—It’s me, Julia.” Again, Chang looked in her direction, but his expression was vague and empty, as though he hadn’t heard her speak at all. Julia swallowed hard and spoke again. “I’m sorry. You might not remember, but we were friends a long time ago… Do you remember? We used to play in this garden. Chang?” Chang stood up and gazed deep into Julia’s eyes. A look crossed him as though he was about to reply. Instead, and without forewarning, he softly tumbled down onto the grass in front of her. “Chang?” Rolling onto his back, belly in the air, he turned his head away from Julia and back towards the direction in which he last saw his assistant. Tears began creeping into Julia’s eyes, but she did her very best to blink them away. “Anyway, Chang, it was nice to see you… And I’m sorry if I’ve bothered you.”

As she walked back towards the pine tree with her head down, she turned to get one last look at Chang. Still lying on his back, he was now grabbing fallen leaves from the ground and tossing them in the air to playfully enjoy their descent. He’s changed so much and yet not at all, she thought—the tears finally breaching from both eyes and rolling down her cheeks. Then, from high atop the stone retaining wall, Julia heard a young girl shout.

“Look, they’re bringing out the food!”

“That’s right, Addie. And what do pandas eat?” The girl’s mother responded.

“Bamboo!” Several of the children shouted in unison, having just learned this fact from the tour guide. The families watched as the enclosure door opened and Chang’s attendant emerged carrying a bundle of bamboo stalks. Chang urgently leapt upward and embraced his attendant with joy, almost knocking the poor teenage boy to the grass. The boy laughed as he surrendered some of the bamboo to Chang, who couldn’t get to work eating it fast enough. Grabbing the remaining stalks, the boy then came up to Julia, who was now lying sullenly in her spot on the other side of the enclosure.

“There there, big girl… He’ll come around one of these days,” he assured her, patting the top of her head and laying the bamboo before her on the rocks. Julia watched as the attendant crossed back through the garden, stopping only to rub Chang’s belly and then exiting through the same door in which he entered. She looked at Chang as he happily munched away, and then up to the families on the ledge, who laughed as they held out their phones—some of the children were doing their very best Chang impressions. Julia laid her head back down on the rock and closed her eyes, hoping the day would just end.


Brett Scott is a writer from the Kansas City area.

Hiding from the Moon

Poetry by Ben Westlie

On your porch in our stupor
I kept turning to leave
your voice clung to me
holding me like my shadow.

I don’t know if I trembled
from the bitter temperatures
or how your heart kept speaking out
of turn. The green glowing in your irises

like small cauldrons. The yearning bones of your face.

I should’ve hidden from the moon
so there could be no shadows to latch onto.

I should have blamed my drunken blood.
I prayed for deafness upon my heart.

I should have sprinted down your porch stairs
until I reached another state.

My kind of love wasn’t in any of your mirrors.

Your face is what I see when snow becomes
stars from moonlight. When I hear the creak of old
wood on porches. When I see unruly auburn hair.

I turned around to the begging
of your face. A friend is all you wanted.

The moonlight made me beastly.
A feral creature raging and starving.


Ben Westlie holds an MFA in Poetry from Vermont College of Fine Arts. Publications: Time You Let Me In: 25 Poets Under 25 edited by Naomi Shihab Nye, The Fourth River, Third Coast, Atlas and Alice, the tiny journal, Trampset, ArLiJo, Otis Nebula, WhimsicalPoet, DASH, MUSE, Speckled Trout Review, and Superpresent.

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