East Fork:

A Journal of the Arts​​


Earl Is Dead​

By Amy Waugh


          “Earl is dead.”
           What did she just say? I must not have heard her right, so I ask her to repeat herself.
           “Earl is dead.”
            The same words. She really said them. My hands begin to shake and my heartbeat speeds up to match my mind as it races around trying to decipher what that means.
            No more concealer.
            No more long sleeves.
            No more alcohol induced seductions.


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Editor's Choice



Issue 17 - Fall 2018

Noise

​By Destiny Trent