We’re what Time makes us. Our decisions are reactions to the perpetual progression of events. Our milieu is our mold, and milieus are a construction of Time and inter-generational reactions. We like to think that we’re taking actions (which are really just reactions to Time) that are defining of how best we see ourselves. In its travels, Time threw a pandemic moment at us. What is true of our personality before this moment? What is true now? Is our definition of our identity still the same or not? What has this moment, this grain of a quicksand called Time revealed to us of who we are?
Writers, send in the excogitations of discoveries about your identity or an identity during the lockdown, we will love to read it.
We are currently looking for
Short fiction: 2500 words max.
Poetry: 3 – 9 pieces
Send submissions to Random firstname.lastname@example.org
For Enquiries about the Anthology
(Fiction and Non-Fiction Features)