WELCOME TO OPUS LITERARY & ARTS MAGAZINE
WELCOME TO OPUS LITERARY & ARTS MAGAZINE

Ember flares, breathe in. The crackle of ash tickles my throat, open your eyes, this wallow high never lasts long enough.    This group I’m in feels dizzy–– none of my friends see straight morality twisting, turning  birthing from our torsos, double helixes.  Like staying in bed all day. Â

THE FACES BEHIND THE MAGAZINE

By Gabrielle Crone            Only a hillbilly would bring their injured dog to the vet using twine as a leash.  At least that’s what our vet, Westley, announced when he saw my grandpa, Charles Bailey, in the lobby of the clinic twine leash in hand.  Gizmo had injured his paw, most [&helli

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