someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’
no. 01 · september 12, 2026 · 10 pieces
a weekly magazine of writing prompts
“someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’”
- ❧featuring @dnt_knw, @molly_lindsay & 8 more
- ❧kiki's note: i loved how differently everyone approached…
- ❧10 pieces
a weekly magazine of writing prompts
“someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’”
- ❧featuring @dnt_knw, @molly_lindsay & 8 more
- ❧kiki's note: i loved how differently everyone approached…
- ❧10 pieces
someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’
from the editor
i loved how differently everyone approached the same feeling. some people wrote about grief. some wrote about heartbreak. some wrote about a mug, a song, a spoon, a window, or a phone that will never ring. each piece found a way to make absence feel physical. the writing that stayed with me was specific. it didn't just say "i miss you." it showed what missing someone does to a room, a recipe, a playlist, a habit, or a body. these pieces reminded me that the smallest details can carry an entire person. thank you for writing here.
— kiki
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someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’
I sigh and drop the spoon down. It doesn't taste right, it needs something. I've referenced at least 10 recipes online. This should be it. But it isn't. This isn't my mom's soup.
— @dnt_knw · open piece
someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’
I couldn’t help but buy us those matching mugs. Yours, the white one and mine the rust one. A sun and a moon. Your sister bought us the same mugs for Christmas. When you left you took a pair and I kept the other. A sun and a moon. Always together. I wonder if you think of me when you use the rust one. Because I still can’t bear to give someone else a tea in the white one.
— @molly_lindsay · open piece
someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’
your bed is still by the window; the sun still finds it
— @cassidiaah · open piece
someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’
I always drop two coins when stumbling upon a wishing well. Each year I return, I make the same two wishes. 1) I wish our paths would cross again 2) I wish I would stop caring regardless. Whatever happens first I suppose. But until then, I’ll keep making my way here, until the change runs out. Until you render me bankrupt.
— @zirilens · open piece
someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’
I see glimpses of you in every new person i admire
— @elmery87 · open piece
someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’
I’ve searched for you on different dancefloors under different pulsating lights. Sometimes you’re the same song on loop for 3 hours and other times you’re someone else’s sweat on my skin.
— @fortyseventails · open piece
someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’
Every second Wednesday of the month, I wait for your call. I know it will never come, but isn’t the lie better? Sometimes, I hear the pitter-patter of your flip-flops. For a second, I let myself believe you’re still there, just in the other room. Everyone swears they’ve moved on, but I know better. We act like your space does not exist. Like the silence you left behind is just another room in the house. We’re all playing pretend, I’m just the only
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someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’
one still holding the phone. So every second Wednesday of the month I lie awake waiting.
— @g.oddity_ · open piece
someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’
They say I have a type. That he’s so incredibly similar to you. Thick hair that tangles in my fingers, a love of cars that stops every conversation, and the habit of spoiling me with things instead of words. But they’re short sighted. You’re not alike at all. His hair is curls at the end where yours used to wisp. He likes how cars look, you love how they feel. And when he compliments me they’re just words. He calls me baby, sweet, soul mate, love. but you called me by my name and no one’s ever said it the same.
— @writingwithv · open piece
someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’
I still turn my head when something reminds me of you, as if you're going to be there the way you used to be. Sometimes, I type your name and delete it before sending. Sometimes, a song comes on and suddenly the room feels too quiet. I've learned to leave space for someone who isn't coming back. I still remember how you laughed, the things you hated, the little habits you never noticed. It's funny how a person can disappear
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someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’
and leave their shape everywhere. In crowded rooms, I look for a familiar face. In quiet ones, I hear your voice. And every now and then I catch myself wondering what I'd say if you walked through the door. I think I'd say nothing. I'd just look at you, long enough to feel like the empty chair finally had someone in it again.
— @khaled_kaissy · open piece
someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’
cigarette packs take a lot longer to finish without you. we were always sharing my cigs. even such a personal moment, a private ritual that is smoking, i shared with you. there was not a single part of me that wasn’t willing to give you everything. i shared so much that, with time, you became an extension. now i suffer the neurosis of this disorienting loss of your half. i mourn your presence as if you passed away; perhaps that part of me died when we became apart. perhaps you had taken her with you, a domestic kidnapping, so i’m grieving what
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someone you miss, without using the word ‘miss’
was stolen, or killed - what i spent so much time protecting because i knew living without it would be devastating to me. it is really devastating. even more when i notice how many cigs i still have left.
— @emilyenrech · open piece
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colophon
set in fraunces and newsreader · made with love in vancouver