Kayla Branstetter

Kayla Branstetter is an educator, mother, writer, artist, and photographer from Missouri. She holds a MALS degree in Art, Literature, and Culture from the University of Denver. Her creative nonfiction, poetry, art, and photography have appeared in the following journals: The Poet's Choice, the Crowder Quill, Light & Space 'All Women' exhibit, The Human Family-Human Rights Festival, The Paragon Press-Echo: Journal of Creative Nonfiction, 805+, High Shelf Press, The Esthetic Apostle, the gyara journal, Fredericksburg Literary and Art Review, a former contributing writer to a regional magazine Ozark Hills and Hollows. She recently had two paintings featured in an exhibition in Milan, Italy, and received the Dante International Art Award from Rome, Italy.

Carter

A man gave me this knife for protection. The government is watching me. My every move is being watched. The CIA is watching me through my truck, my phone, my stove, my microwave, and probably this knife. I trust no one. Don’t be surprised if a government sniper shoots me dead—right through the head.

Kayla Branstetter

Kayla Branstetter is an educator, mother, writer, artist, and photographer from Missouri. She holds a MALS degree in Art, Literature, and Culture from the University of Denver. Her creative nonfiction, poetry, art, and photography have appeared in the following journals: The Poet's Choice, the Crowder Quill, Light & Space 'All Women' exhibit, The Human Family-Human Rights Festival, The Paragon Press-Echo: Journal of Creative Nonfiction, 805+, High Shelf Press, The Esthetic Apostle, the gyara journal, Fredericksburg Literary and Art Review, a former contributing writer to a regional magazine Ozark Hills and Hollows. She recently had two paintings featured in an exhibition in Milan, Italy, and received the Dante International Art Award from Rome, Italy.

Carter

A man gave me this knife for protection. The government is watching me. My every move is being watched. The CIA is watching me through my truck, my phone, my stove, my microwave, and probably this knife. I trust no one. Don’t be surprised if a government sniper shoots me dead—right through the head.

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