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  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    The legend of the fish pond had floated in currents among the village people for years, its face ascending and splashing from the fresh cool water that forever remains dark and mysterious to the villagers. Hundreds of fish would glide open-mouthed through the ripples of the water as humans pass, for...
  • Nonfiction > Travel & Culture
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    It was one of those moments when you truly felt the awe and beauty of the power of God, His will, and His creations. A moment of pure content and happiness, where everything seemed right in its place and that the hope for the future was a bright clear light leading towards unknown doors. My...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Insert Poem Title We sit on our brown couches in the small living room of the apartment, The television blaring its bright lights and scratching sounds. Sound-bytes of yells and cries ring in our ears, Images of tanks, angry fists, and weeping children flash into our eyes. We see broken windo...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Sheherzade: I watch the news each day bitterly, gazing at the images of riots and helplessness that fall upon the streets of our brother countries. They, the people in my school, tell me, "You are a talented girl, Sheherzade. Why do you do this to yourself? Why do you want to go there?" Bu...
  • Nonfiction > Travel & Culture
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    I stood in front of a mirror, patiently combing my tangled hair. I sat down on the bed, squeezed into the small room equipped with a book-shelf, previously used for old toys and Jack-in-the-boxes. There was a moment of silence, but then the sounds of people shuffling their feet and moving in and ou...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    "Zaustavi". "What?" "Zaustavi...Now." I heard her turn her head to look back at me. We had been driving alongside the road for hours now, stopping only to throw the newspapers at the empty solemn houses that stood on abandoned driveways. My fingers trembled, weary ...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    I stand on the small balcony, watching the winged birds fly across the dimly lit sky, now a tender mixture of pink hues and bright blue silks. A breeze gently settles out of the pined forest and caresses my face somberly. I blink several times, squinting at the meek line separating the last few rays...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    Imagine a quiet deserted land, palm trees waving with the slightest push of the faint wind, and the feeling of emptiness filling one’s heartbeat when walking down the neighborhood street. It is an eerie feeling almost, children rarely playing in the streets and couples confining themselves to the ...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    I sat by the window in the arm chair and looked through the window, watching the familiar palm tree waving its arm. The trees around it seemed to also wave, as if dancing in a familiar rhythm as the wind blew through the cracks of the leaves that were now firm and green after the long July summer. S...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    It was at that moment that, at the bottom of my stomach, I felt fear and anxiousness rise. My hands shook and I could feel myself blinking often, frozen in place as I uneasily glanced at him. He too was wide-eyed and shocked, sitting next to me on the small bench across my cousin and her friends. Sh...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Her eyes dart to and fro as she peers, afraid, through the moving glass window. I hold her small hands in my lap and watch her almond eyes grow big and large, As she watches the passing scenes in marveling contemplation. She gasps, her hazel eyes widening suddenly, A light enflamed by child-l...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I walk silently across the wheat fields, Watching as the tips of my fingers gently slide across the soft grass. It feels almost eerie as the bright moon, Lights the path in front of me, Unveiling the bright colors of the grass stalks; Yellow, Golden, Red, and Brown. Palm trees around me sway a...
  • Nonfiction > Travel & Culture
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    There was something odd and fascinating about him. Perhaps it was the way he twirled his feet in small circles with his pointed black shoes as he danced, or the way his whole body moved with the bang of the animal-skinned drum his cousin was playing. Perhaps it was the way his strong brown arms tigh...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Slight and shaking thin fingers, Tenderly brush against my round childish cheek. They lightly trace the edges of my curved face, stopping at my bright green eyes, my small ears, and my wide forehead. My father laughs shyly, tweaking my crooked nose and grinning widely. He places both hands, wa...
  • Nonfiction > Travel & Culture
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    All was still and quiet. I stroked my gun thoughtfully and backed under the sacks that hid me from the enemy’s site. “Pazi! Gledaj okolo!” my father yelled from the barrack in front of me. “Look! Watch out!” he meant. I turned and squatted, facing forward. My eyes squinted in th...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    The ocean breeze raked its fingers through my hair, now flowing with it’s chilly breath. I closed my eyes and breathed in the salty air, tasting the fresh, green, pulpy seaweed. My hands gingerly touched the icy gate and I peered down to gaze at the ocean’s violent thrashing of the shore. As I w...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    Thunder flashed as my brother and I, sopping wet, slid gleefully down the slide. Our parents sat, laughing, at the table under the safe haven under the patio roof. Our clothes stuck to our skins, but none of that mattered. The dark sky made us feel adventurous and mischievous, energy growing wild...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    One memory has always stuck out to me more than the rest. I have never been sure if it was real or not, but it has certainly felt that way. Some days, when my thoughts are clouded or confused, the memory re-appears, forcing a smile to fill my face. It is a memory of only two carefree people in a ...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    I have always been a cynic when it came to dreams of true love on sight, especially when it came to teenagers. My boundaries ranged from “crushing from a distance”; however, a single encounter proved these ideas to be slightly hypocritical. It had been a hot day on the beach at Croatia. We s...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    I sat on the wooden engraved chair, finishing up Arabian Nights. I had finally gotten to the last page, and after reading it, I stood up to put it back on my shelf. Eagerly, my eyes darted from each shelf, looking for another book to read. Once more, my hand flew to another book, Autobiography of K...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    I pawed at the dirt faster while fretfully looking at the patio door. My hands reached for the moist earth under the fence, pulling and pulling. Beams of light at least shone and I stopped to observe my work. And what I feared would happen did. I was discovered. “Šta radiš?” Amina said with...
  • Nonfiction > Heroes
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    At age 11, I was a child inside of the “box.” Not to say I was physically immured in a box, but I was one who worked inside of guidelines, barely making minimum requirements. I was in a metaphorical “box,” never wondering and always lazy. My reading level? Magic Tree House chapter books were...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    “Go in your room.” “Can’t I stay here?” my brother asked, near tears. “No. I got stuff to do.” I said, even though it wasn’t true. It was a bland Saturday afternoon and I sat on my flashy purple bed-set, disinterestedly picking at scraps of frilly paper that had fallen out of ...

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