An advanced peek of what is coming at you in aaduna's upcoming issue!

Beraha Sellem will capture your heart and gently ease you into the the soft winds floating through your imagination.  Here is a snippet from her untitled piece:
 The homeless musician of Champs Elysées
Plays an old jazzy piece with a rusty saxophone.
The pure sound of his music pierces my heart.
It sounds like my cry when we fell apart.
I stop and I stare at him; a tear falls down
Against his cheek, but he keeps playing.
I feel his body shaking and his brown
Eyes, full of pain, are bringing
Me back to you.
Love is killing us. Slowly. Surely.

Eloísa Pérez-Lozano shapes thoughts into understandings many of us have experienced.  From her "Distractions During Spanish Mass."

a priest speaks clumsy Spanish
his “oh’s” turn into “ows”
and “eh’s” turn into “ay’s,”
stumbling on the precipice
of holy words in an alien tongue like a toddler who’s learned how to walk,
his moving feet giving momentum to halting but steady steps leading him ever forward
in an uneven, meandering line

J. Richard McLaughlin's "Montreal" reveals more than an entry in a travel journey.  We share just a snippet of his memorable poetic tale:

We had raced for it, sometimes like bandits, but sometimes stopping at the rest stops in the green hills of Vermont until we finally reached the border.

Nous avons retenu une chambre, I said to the man at the desk at the hotel on St. Denis, when we finally arrived.  I had no idea what his reply meant.

I did that through the entire trip, in fact, only spoke French unless I absolutely had to speak English.  This drove you crazy, as I wasn’t able to understand their accent at all, and I never let you watch TV in English the whole time we were there.


Quiana Katumu, a resident of Baltimore, MD weaves an intriguing fiction story...of what? You decide from her snippet from "Lost & Found:"

            All of a sudden, I heard a creaking noise from downstairs. I froze and popped my head out of the covers to listen. Thirty seconds went by and then a minute, but all I could hear was thunder and the rain against the roof. I shrugged and climbed back under the covers. This house was so old; it was always making weird noises.

            The rain turned into a heavy sloshing noise, interrupted only by loud claps of thunder. My eyes closed as the sounds of the noisy storm erupted outside. Slowly a wave of sleepiness washed over and my breathing slowed, until I finally dozed off.

            A few hours later, I was awakened by a loud crashing sound. I sat upright. My heart was pounding out of my chest. My thighs were stuck together from sweating during my sleep and a drizzle of water ran down my back. I tried to listen past my thumping heart and closed bedroom door, but I couldn’t hear anything. Silence! The rain had stopped and the TV had turned itself off.“Maybe it was just a dream,” I mumbled. Then I heard muffled noises. Oh my God, somebody is in the house! What do I do?

Watch for the summer/fall 2016 issue launching soon!