September 25th, 2026 - Sam Alex
Wendy House
Love is smaller
now
we are larger
and can’t go through
its wooden door
moss has an appetite
for the roof
flecks of white paint
pour down
artifacts
someone
once
was here
it must have been flush
then, with the sound of laughter
heartbeats heard
through a make-believe
stethoscope
the floor is warping
frost-lit, wailing
find a time machine
be small again
close the door
no
trespassers
allowed
“Sam Alex is a Canadian writer and woodland wanderer. Her work has most recently appeared in The Morgue, Marrow Magazine, After Brunch Journal, and in the Trash Cat Lit short story anthology: What Comes to Light.”