commonvision’s 6th Annual Hallowzine

 Welcome to our 6th annual Hallowzine, this year it’s online! Cover art by Raquel Hamner, layout by Amy Phan and Katie Chrzanowski.

A Collection of Recurring Dreams - Michelle Young

#1

An alarm sounds. Everyone rushes to the caves, lanterns squeal, orange lights swinging. On

your hands and knees, water soaks through your pants from the cold ground. You crawl

forwards into the narrow tunnel, just wide enough for your shoulders to fit through, everyone

single file, you at the end and the leader up ahead, wielding his single lantern, the gold light still

flickering. You can feel the tunnel slope down, down, down down down, deeper into the bowels

of the earth. Cold cold cold, where no light has gone before, sucking warmth from your palms,

stiff knees, into the very womb of the world. The others’ voices grow weaker and the light

shrinks as you’re being left behind. Try as you might, you shout but you’re not crawling fast

enough, can’t shout loud enough, you’re being left behind and the light disappears and the

darkness envelopes you. The cold earth is ready to collapse cave swallow you back into the

darkness from whence you came. It’s freezing, and you’re alone.

2#

You enter the large room, and there’s bright colors, billowy fabric, helium balloons and children

bouncing. It’s an indoor trampoline park, and you’re invited. You bounce, testing the

springiness, and find it just like any other trampoline. So you hop, bounce, jump a little, test

your limits. You look up and wonder why the ceiling is so high. How high, four stories? Maybe?

It looks like someone could skydive from the ceiling if they tried. Your question is answered as

you hear a shriek of joy as a child p l u m m e t s to the floor and immediately catapults back up

into the air, somehow nearly bumping his head into the high ceiling. He hangs for a second

before coming back down again, like an astronaut returning to earth and other children start

jumping too, higher and higher and h i g h er 10 feet 20 feet 40 feet and they’re all around you

there’s feet everywhere and the floor is so u n s t a ble you’re bouncing and sliding and and and

someone’s about to land on you and you hate it. You hate it. It’s rainbows and colors and

balloons and you’re going to be trampled to death at the trampoline park.

3#

Sometimes I have generally anxious dreams. About nothing, or something in particular, but it’s

hazy and indistinguishable so it’s basically about nothing. But you haven’t brushed your teeth in

_____ days/weeks and uh oh uhhhhhh hskflsfsh you uh open your mouth and you know your

teeth are about to fall out and they do they’re loose and sliding from your gums and rattling in

your mouth. You don’t want to crunch them, don’t want to crush them, but your jaw is closing,

you want to close your mouth but you know you’re going to break your teeth. So you resist,

straining against your closing jaw, don’t grind your teeth until the blissful morning fog of sleep

carries you away and the struggle is over. Sometimes you lose the war and your teeth grind and

go CRUNCH and break, bony splinters poking your gums. Other times you spit out loose teeth,

canines and molars, only to wake up and find all your teeth, in your mouth, right where you left

them last night.

Don't come to my house - Aaron Wescott

Real Ghost - Noah Nies

Happy Halloween, stay safe and healthy! instagram @noahniesart

Scary Aaron, or Scaaron If You Will - Aaron Wescott

Thank you for visiting! Interested in submitting to a Zine? Please check out our other zines.