Submissions are accepted on a regular basis, year-round.
Can include, short stories, essays, poetry and prose.
Must not exceed 3,000 words.
Must be written by a current ESA student, or alumni.
Submissions are accepted:

Wednesday, 13 June 2018

The Perfect Gift

The Perfect Gift
By Madeline Thaller

It was absolutely lovely 
The perfect gift 
Don't I seem happy
And I smiled as we said goodbye
Why should I cry
When you keep me laughing
Of course everything changed
The minute the lights went down
But that's to be expected
It was an honour to have you around
And look what we found 

It was absolutely beautiful
The finest things
The finest flings
And there's nothing left to say
But I still remember every page
The rooms empty the beds been made
And I know that you leave on tomorrow's train
And everything fades 

Don't try to go back
Or get stuck in a past that was all pretend
And yes it was beautiful
But the best things still end
Don't think of it now or how there are bridges you know won't mend
Or roads that were bound to bend
Or how it's about to end 

We could talk about intention
An empty bowl, the right direction
Sometimes you just want more but I know there's a reason for closing that door
It's all over a bit to fast
One day you're in heaven
Then just like that
It's all in the past 

Don't try to go back
Or get stuck in a past that was all pretend
And yes it was beautiful
But the best things still end
Don't think of it now or how there are bridges that you won't mend
Or roads that were bound to bend
Or how it's about to end 

And now it's just another glass half empty on the table
The jokes you catch that no one else can hear
Another thing I know I should forget but won't be able
And I hope I've made it clear
That you gave me my best year 

Don't try to go back
Or get stuck in a past that was all pretend
And yes it was beautiful
But the best things still end
Don't think of it now or how there are bridges you know won't mend
Or roads that were bound to bend
Or how it's about to end 

It was absolutely perfect


Written for the 2018 Graduating Music Theatre Class.

First performed live at Lula Lounge on Monday June 4th, 2018.

Tuesday, 29 May 2018

The Fields

The Fields 
By Meagan Sutherland

Run. That’s all I could think. My life changed from peace to tragedy in the blink of an eye. As I ran I heard the peacefulness of the farm go by. I faintly heard the cows mooing and the tree leaves brushing against each other as I quickly went past. I rushed towards the grassy green pastures and blue sky’s. Father was on my trail. He was still a bit far behind. He was an old man, in his late 50’s. He wore his overalls, covered in tractor oil and manure, his jet black books, soles covered in dirt and of course, his favourite, old, worn down Chevrolet baseball cap. “Get back here boy or I’ll whip your ass until it bleeds!” He yelled with his leather belt in hand. He may be old, but boy could he run like the wind. He wasn’t as fast as he used to be, but he still had that extra power in him. I disappeared into the wheat fields. Every grain of wheat hurting more and more the faster I run. Luckily the fields were tall and thick so you couldn’t see anything from the sides. As soon as I felt far away and safe, I stopped. “God damn it!” Father shouted. Making the fields ripple like when a drop hits water. I fell to my knees, heavy and weak. Almost as weak as my arms feel after we stack the bales of hay in September. My short brown hair covering my eyes as I look up to the bright blue sky. The warm July sun, covering my skin like a cozy wolf blanket. For once, it felt a bit calmer on the farm. As I bask in the glow of the warm sun and watch the wheat sway as the gasps of wind go by, the peacefulness suddenly vanished. I stopped and stared blankly into the mounds of wheat before me. No expression. Not the sense that Father was near, but something else. Something more dreadful. I slowly picked my body weight back up and stopped in shock. I couldn’t move. I suddenly remember that it was Thursday July 15, 1973. Thursday. Then the terrifying sound of wheat being cut started just north of me. My knees turned to jelly all of a sudden, and I fell to the dirt ground with a thud. Head in hands, I slowly look up at the sky for the last time. A single tear ran down my freckled cheek. The tearing sound getting louder and louder, worse and worse and snap. It’s all over. But how did I get here?

My Head

My Head
By Michael No Name

A marching band all in my head
I don’t want to get out of bed
It fills me with dread
Stomach full of lead, dead
Everyday is a balancing act but I got a knack for this
It’s whack
They're always telling me to pick up my act
It's hard to do while keeping my interest intact
Always forget to put my coat on the rack
Teetor-totter wobble
Crack my head open leak out my thoughts
I wish I could keep a thought for more than a second
Keep a verse and run through it, man, that would be heaven
But I gotta keep switching up sorry I get bored
They dont think Im listening
like I'm out of it, day dreamer, whistling
Listing these crippling, persisting, fears that fulfilment’s missing
It’s constricting
I wish I didn't have an excuse
I tried it one too many times it's no use
Its hard like red spruce
And sour like lime juice



by Olivia Nitti

Between the sheets, we are safe.
As our love perpetuates,
Out in the cold and disdain.
There is our inevitable pain.
While the world around us grows thicker,
Our time together goes away quicker.

Be warned to cherish, and be sure not to miss.
The disarming embrace, of each time we kiss.
I wonder if you know, that our special place,
Is separate from darkness, it’s where I see grace.

Now what will I do?
When I have someone like you,
Who is holding me together, yet ripping me apart.
Who is the one, only being, in tune with my heart.
Overwhelmed by your presence, longing for your essence.
In fear you won’t be around, to hold me to the ground.
When everything starts slipping, as it usually does;
The one thing that is assertive, is painfully,
Our love.

We stand at the edge of the earth.
We could fall any second.
Standing on crumbling ground,
What is happening to us.
I am at a loss of what to do,
I knew I loved you.
Well, I think I do.
Which way will we go?
Into the abyss, never to be saved,
Or piece back together the stones beneath stolen waves.

Where Are You?

Where Are You?

by Olivia Nitti

We were lying silent and still.
Our faces were so close that when I fluttered,
My eyelashes touched your nose.
I felt safe, for the first time in a long while.
I could breathe without trying.
You were my breath of fresh air.
Yet still, there is this pitiful feeling that you don’t really care.
I wonder if it’s just me.
But as I read your signs,
All I see is in front of me.
Your heart and mind are elsewhere.



by Olivia Nitti

But I am just a human.
A victim like some, an abuser like others.
My actions have isolated me.
Made me weak and terrified.
So I sit and wonder.
Who will recognize that I am more than my actions?
That we are more than our actions.

I Want You Anyway

I Want You Anyway 
By Olivia Nitti

Waiting for you is like waiting for a meteor.
To hit my world.
To set it on fire.
Let it explode with light and flames.
Until my world is burned out.
Until nothing is left.
All because that meteor came.