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• Fiction > Realistic Fiction
  My Misanthropy

  

  By JessicaMaria, Claxton, GA

  I’ve come to realize that loneliness is not most poignant in actual solitude, but rather when one is completely unacknowledged in a crowd of their peers. And this state of being, it’s not quite nonexistence so much as it is standing in the shadow of a giant Social Monster that always has its bac...
• Fiction > Realistic Fiction
  Shatter

  

  By JessicaMaria, Claxton, GA

  You probably don’t remember, but I still do. We met on that special morning all those years ago, your eyes so wide with starry delight and childlike adoration. You told me I was your favorite. My story you could not read, so you tore it from my wrist and deemed it all irrelevant. You didn’t c...
• Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
  Paroxysm

  

  By JessicaMaria, Claxton, GA

  Nothing is clean in this place. It started from the center—something hatched there. It tumbled from its scaly shell in a hideous squirm, unfurling leg after leg, putrid and slimy. It rose from its membrane, naked and newborn, an incarnate of evil. “Seek another,” it commanded through the he...
• Fiction > Realistic Fiction
  A Mile and a Half up the Road

  

  By JessicaMaria, Claxton, GA

  I don’t know why I said okay. I was never exactly the life of the party, and people spoke without the slightest bit of sarcasm when they called me a wet blanket, a Debbie Downer, etcetera, etcetera. On that day, though, I was something different. I said okay. We were just going to peek around, ...
• Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
  Suspending Disbelief

  

  By JessicaMaria, Claxton, GA

  I watched, prone on the highest hill as the world churned over my head. The ground was soft against my skin, the fine grass bending sweetly beneath me; a million spineless servants cradling me atop my noble pedestal. The trees standing along the horizon grew shadowy and bleak, my entire sphere of vi...
• Poetry > All Poetry
  Eight

  

  By JessicaMaria, Claxton, GA

  Eight is building lopsided snowmen with charcoal eyes Whose watery graves prove an unpleasant surprise Eight is capturing pet ladybugs Kept hostage in boxes dark and snug Eight is double-scooped chocolate cones in summer But splattered on the sidewalk, it's a bawling bummer Eight is an ag...