Thirst
Carella Keil
Desperation is a dry, endless desert.
I bathe in blue
salty sea water and jump out glistening
wet, and a moment later
I’m parched again.
Carella Keil
Desperation is a dry, endless desert.
I bathe in blue
salty sea water and jump out glistening
wet, and a moment later
I’m parched again.
Luanne Castle
From the dock, we dragged
our feet through the brown water,
catching our toes on minnows
or marsh grass.
Our long straight hair blew across our faces,
hooking slyly in our opened mouths.
The high school boys from across the lake
curved their big motorboat
in front of us, deluging us with waves.
When the sun balanced on the tree tops
above the houses of the boys,
we went in to set my mother’s table.
After dark we paddled
the rowboat out to the third lake
where the spiky weeds poking out
scared away boaters and house builders.
We followed the crescent moon
and threw anchor under the stars.
Our voices carried over the gently
breathing lake, but
we didn’t care, believing
the lake swallowed the secrets
hidden between our words, dragging
them down to swamp bottom.
From somewhere we thought we heard
a speedboat chopping fast,
and thought of the bare-chested boys
out there somewhere, churning the surfaces
of the first and second lakes in vain
while we listened now in silence.
Jessica June Cato
Chronic. Jumped in pools all wrong. Back when summers lasted months, not weeks. Swimming deep was never a problem, only points of impact. When I broke the surface, I brought my tension with me. My fault. Stayed under forever. Deep as the concrete cared to dip. No one could reach me down there. Nothing could touch me. Sweet dissociation. I tanned through a bathing suit once. Wore flowers to bed for weeks. Popped my fingers underwater. Heard them snap like metal. Fanned my hair out like a dandelion. Weightless. Imagined I was somewhere else.
Water was a portal and a place. A god offering quiet respite. Our bodies are mostly water. Some days my skin was in the way. I wanted to melt into it. Engulfed. Overtaken by unthinking oneness. I was supposed to stay down there. Watch the surface fracture sunlight, the sky swirl in dimples above me.
Letter from the Editor
Dear Reader,
Welcome to the summer issue of Nightingale & Sparrow Literary Magazine! While we’re still playing catch-up across the N&S nest, we’re delighted to bring this issue to life.
This issue was inspired by a piece published in one of our earliest issues, a piece that’s stayed with me through the years. As I plotted upcoming themes for our literary magazine, this one seemed ideal. Of course, this is coming out as we enter autumn; the pieces here, though, undoubtedly hearken to summer’s humidity and times spent in pools, lakes, the ocean, and beyond.
With submerged, we aimed to showcase the depths of water. To quote CNF editor Paige Lalain, we were searching for pieces that “play in the liminal space between sea and surface.” Submitters sent in many interpretations of this theme, and I’m confident we’ve selected some of the best.
“We are looking for poems, creative nonfiction, fiction, and visual art that mimics the moment a swimmer breaks the water’s surface,” we wrote to submitters. “Dive into the deep end, cool off in the worst of summer’s heat, and join us in the local pool, lake, pond, or ocean.” From Paula Turcotte’s “Chlorine Breakfast” and Roselle Farr’s “Beyond the Water Line” to Jessica June Cato’s “I Used To Get Ear Infections” and Mel Piper’s “Crest,” you’ll smell the salty sea air and feel the sand and stones beneath bare feet as you page through this issue.
As always, this issue wouldn’t be in your hands (or on your screen) right now if it weren’t for the incredible N&S team, our talented contributors, and all those who support our little literary corner of the world.
Without further ado—let’s dive in.
Juliette Sebock
Editor-in-Chief, Nightingale & Sparrow
Fiction Contributor
Zoe recently graduated from the Undergraduate Diploma in Creative Writing at the University of Oxford and is currently studying for the MLitt in Creative Writing at the University of Glasgow. She has been published by Paper Nations, Snakeskin and Renard Press, and The Dawntreader, and longlisted for the Black Cat Poetry Press competition. After 13 years in Ottawa, Canada, she now lives in Berkshire, England with her husband, five children, three cats and a dog.
Poetry Contributor
I am a teacher and writer based in South East London. I am currently studying a Masters in Creative Writing and Education at Goldsmiths University, London.
Fiction Contributor
Paula Turcotte was born and raised on Treaty 7 land, home of the Siksika, Piikani, Kainai, Tsuut’ina and Stoney Nakoda First Nations. She is a former English teacher and is now reading for the MSt in Creative Writing at the University of Oxford. Paula is a snack connoisseur who can often be found running, cycling, swimming, or hanging out with her dog. She never remembers to use a bookmark.
Visual Art Contributor
Mel Piper is based in Coventry, UK and been a keen photographer since as soon as she could get hold of a camera. Mel adores taking snapshots of the natural world around us, showcasing the beauty in the smallest of things. Mel also enjoys portrait photography, and sport photography. In addition to photography, Mel is a keen writer, reader and is never happier than being in the great outdoors! Insta: @tinymelphotography
Poetry Contributor
Luanne Castle’s new poetry collection is Rooted and Winged (Finishing Line Press). Kin Types, a chapbook of poetry and flash nonfiction, was a finalist for the Eric Hoffer Award. Her first collection of poetry, Doll God, won the New Mexico-Arizona Book Award for Poetry. Luanne’s Pushcart and Best of the Net-nominated poetry and prose have appeared in Copper Nickel, American Journal of Poetry, Pleiades, River Teeth, TAB, Verse Daily, Saranac Review, and other journals.
Poetry Contributor
Jessica June Cato is a California based poet and mother. She is a bisexual, biracial Latina and draws inspiration from nature documentaries, therapy, astrology and experiences living her own dualities. Her favorite things include being a mother, avoiding small talk at school pickup, anything fantasy fiction and her two small poodles.