From the Editor

There is something about early spring that feels like a house that’s just waking up. Windows are closed, dust dances in the light, and the air carries the faint scent of something beginning again.

This particular issue gathers pieces that lean into that feeling—stories and poems that wander through quiet rooms, overgrown gardens, and softened memories. These works feel less like declarations and more like little discoveries: something found tucked into a drawer, pressed between pages.

Each piece featured in this use was selected from our Word House community for its atmosphere, voice, and lingering sense of wonder.

May you find something here that feels like it was waiting for you.

— Reagan Westerly

Founder & Curator