Mowgli: Allows Rodgit Limited Proximity; Refuses to Clarify If It’s Forgiveness or Surveillance.

Akela Detects Furniture Treason, Cites Red Chair Relocation as Proof of Impending Doom. Classifies Rain as “personal attack.”

Poe Distrusts Typography, Demands All Future Zines Be Spoken Aloud Over Roast Chicken.

This Week in Underland:

• Zines, Zeal, and Zero Chill:
  We made a zine. We cried. We high-fived. We’re emotionally unprepared for feedback, but submissions for Issue Two are open.
• Poems, Pride, and Personal History:
  River’s Spotted Lanternfly lands in Spillwords. Celia gets sentimental. The rest of us get wet.
• Rodgit, Rivalries, and Reluctant Diplomacy:
  Charlie has chosen. His human has not. Border tensions escalate. Sausages are now considered contraband.
• Boxes, Biscuits, and the Big Unknown:
  The move looms. Packing stalls. Feelings swirl. Holding each other (and the cats) as tightly as the bubble wrap.

This week has brought almost too much excitement for us to handle here in Underland. We’re homebodies by nature and usually prefer a quiet life.

Last Thursday, we went out for drinks with Celia’s mam (I think I’ve got that right?) to celebrate her birthday. Then on Saturday, we went out for Chinese food with Celia’s family to celebrate both her mam and her birthdays. It was lovely getting to know her family better. Thursday night was especially fun — we visited one of Celia’s old haunts, and it was a joy seeing her reconnect with old friends and hearing stories from before we met.

Now for the most exciting news — we published a zine! We’re so proud of it and incredibly grateful for everyone who’s shared it, sent kind messages, and purchased physical copies (special shoutout to Aaron for the generous donation!). Keep sharing! We’re excited to build on the momentum and have lots of fun things in store for the next issue. Submissions are open until August 10th, and the next issue will be released on August 13th.

I (River) also had a poem accepted by Spillwords! It’ll be published tomorrow (the 16th), and I’m thrilled to have my work included there for the first time.

That’s about as much excitement as we can handle.

 On top of it all, we’ve had a feline interloper (now more of a guest) we’ve been calling Rogit. He’s actually our neighbour’s cat, Charlie, but he seems to have decided that the biscuits and chicken we offer are worth spending most of the day with us. I woke up yesterday to find him curled up on our bed, and I’m pretty sure he snuggled with Celia during her nap too. He’s sweet and gets along well with our chaos gremlins — but we’re moving to Thailand soon, and sadly, he can’t come with us.

All in all, it’s been an emotional week: exciting news, a bit of stress, and a lot of anticipation as we prepare for the big move (even if we are both procrastinating when it comes to actually packing).Be well, friends — and don’t forget to read and submit to our zine!

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The zine is a joy, but it’s also a responsibility. Holding other people’s words in your hands — wanting to honour them through layout, format, tone — it’s a lot.
A joyful lot. But a lot all the same.

To our contributors: thank you. Thank you for your trust. We’re doing our best to hold it with care.

Happy birthday to my wonderful mam. It was awesome to spend one together at last! Hope the spiky mad does the back a solid!

Also, I just want to say, I’m so incredibly proud of my wife.
Their poem, “Spotted Lanternfly”, was one of the first things I ever read of theirs. I think it was part of what made me realise they were someone I wanted to know. Maybe even needed to know.

And here we are.
On the edge of an adventure, adventuring quietly every day in our small, introverted, Underland way.

On another note, we seem to have found ourselves in a sort of cold war with the next-door neighbour.
Her cat, Charlie (affectionately known to us as Rodgit), has taken a shine to sausages, Akela, and the window seat — so now she unreservedly hates us.

What to do?
You win some, you lose some.
Sometimes the prize is a slightly damp flirt of a cat who smells faintly of compost and weed.

Be well, friends and foes alike —
Read the zine.
Submit to the zine.
Smoke the zine.

And if you see Rodgit, tell him he can’t come to Thailand.
(But maybe give him a biscuit first.)

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If this resonated, share it on Bluesky (or anywhere folks still have an attention span longer than a moth after a sleepless night), leave us a comment, or check out our latest anthologies

Poetry Collection, ‘Is this all we get?’

Prose Collection, ‘ Fifth Avenue Pizza’