Barton Bradley AKA Daniel Hassal

I have my own home. There is an enclosed herb garden, a pit that doubles as a barbeque, and a sitting area next to a pond which is fed by the spring that runs along the edge of the property. I am living on the farm, with the Madre, although she is living in her... Continue Reading →

Sugar Ledoux

So I finally did it. I moved into my own place, on the Farm, with two hundred and some odd numbers of people who lived here before I got here. I don't know what made me decide to make the move, except that I was tired of being alone. I was tired of the only... Continue Reading →

Kristoph Fisher

They said they believed in God, and that through them you could find the kind of peace that drugs and alcohol couldn't provide. For a while it was true. When you first get to the compound you are shown to the bunkhouse, where you will live with sixteen other men. All single, like yourself, all... Continue Reading →


I am choosing to remain anonymous, but I was asked to write, and I decided to acquiesce to the request. My name doesn't matter anyway. Neither does my gender. I am one of many that were abused by Jonah Kingston Kent, not to the severity as others, but close enough. The things that I witnessed... Continue Reading →

The Homestead

You may have heard that the men and women who write for this magazine, survived an organization called ARC. It was supposed to be a society of theologists who gathered together to share in their love for God. It turned into a cult run by an egomaniac named Jonah Kingston Kent. My own parents were... Continue Reading →

Free Day

I'm sitting in this little cafe in White Rock, overlooking the ocean. Quarantine is mostly over now, people are starting to mingle again, I decided I needed something more than my four walls. I'm sipping a caramel latte as I write this, considering going out to smoke a joint, but that would mean packing up... Continue Reading →

The Homestead

I was there when iron spikes were plunged into the ground at all four corners of what would become the property that I now live in. I was there when the first spells were cast to connect the family to the land. When the first drops of blood were spilled into the grass of what... Continue Reading →

In the Beginning

Surrey BC is a weird fucking place. If you drive up and down King George Highway, you'll see that every single intersection from Newton all the way to Scott Road station is shaped like a pentagram or pentacle. It's the one city in the province that has a church at every single intersection. If you... Continue Reading →

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