*Featured image courtesy of Shelby Deeter on Unsplash Love can be many things: intimate, passionate, and also . . . complicated. Read along for Yuan’s take on an interesting and unique love story. Before they joined each other in Zhuhai, Ming often complained to Hua that her love was like a loach in a rice field, full of splashing vitality, but really hard to catch, let alone hold it firmly in his hand. Given the fact that theirs was an unspeakable extramarital relationship, he knew that she had every reason to hide her affection even from herself, but since they began to honeymoon as temporary elopers on October 12, Ming has become increasingly aware that there seems to be an invisible switch that controls her emotional being. “What do you mean, what kind of switch?”…
“Between The Notes” by Steve Sangapore
*Featured image courtesy of Mike Castro Demaria on Unsplash* Let’s be honest: life can be hard. As artists we often create art as an outlet to relieve some of life’s stress, but what if this has the opposite effect? Read along for a transparent and insightful take from FC’s former Fine Art Barista Steve Sangapore, as he shares some of his struggles and discusses how taking a step back from creating helped with healing his mental health. The Value of Rests in the Music of Life Can art heal? Yes. I believe that the creation and the consumption of art both have the power to heal, feed and improve the human soul and intellect. However, through firsthand discovery, I learned that there are indeed situations in life when the creation of art can not only lose…
“Becoming Queen,” A Short Story by Lorraine Parrish
*Featured image courtesy of Pexels on Pixabay* Doubt has a funny way of sneaking into our minds when we least expect it, and all we need is a little encouragement to push past that negative voice. Come along as Lorraine guides us through an elegant performance in “Becoming Queen.” Inky darkness disguises me among the shifting walls of velvet. It calls to me — an energy that ebbs and flows, like blood pumping throughout my veins. Come closer. This whir of energy beckons, sighing into my ear — Reveal yourself to me. My skin tingles in anticipation as high-pitched whispers dissipate into an atmosphere rife with tension and excitement. Normally light on my feet, I stumble over a wooden block secured to the floor. Their expressions — raised eyebrows, and curled lips—reveal both contempt and perhaps, surprise? Whatever…