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

Earl grey skies swaddle the rooftops like hand-knit mittens.  A reluctant rain begins to fall, pattering on sidewalks  and bejeweling the crimson leaves of the maple trees in the city park.  I walk slowly through the purple twilight, breathing deeply    the smells of damp earth and wet leaves.

THE FACES BEHIND THE MAGAZINE

     Busia’s house always felt foreign to me. I was used to shag carpets, floral wallpapers, and watching Hogan’s Heroes on our white Zenith television back at home. Busia’s, on the other hand, was more like a relic from the postwar housing boom. The wallpapers were khaki-colored, spotted r

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