As the Son of an Addict
I I remember my mother's hands, cold from condensation. How I could feel the decay when she would caress my cheek. Maple-flavored kisses shifted to cigarettes…
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November 6, 2020
Walled City Journal was a passion project. It taught me the importance of literature in human experiences. While working on this project was an honor, I am unable to commit to the hours and work required to make this a successful magazine. At the moment, I feel unmotivated as a writer and therefore, this is not the best moment to continue running a magazine. Therefore, Walled City Journal and Walled Women magazine are going on an indefinite hiatus until further notice.