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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Is it strange That memories make me sad That old photographs And picture albums Seem a lot more like time lost And smiles forgotten Than lessons learned Or hours invested? And maybe, In the past I didn’t do what I needed to To be happy in here and now So maybe I miss the carefree days o...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Your face in our mind's eye, Bringing you closer to us, Saying our last goodbyes, We remember. Throwing a rose, Words in a rush, Black clothes, We remember. We remember the tears, But we remember the laughter. Through good times and bad, Burning flame to cool ember, For all the memo...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Are you better than me? It’s difficult to say. You certainly believe yourself to be. But does a strong belief in something make it an absolute truth? Have you ever heard of a man called Adolf Hitler? Are your designer jeans better than my Goodwill finds? Yours are more expensive, mine are ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    perhaps I take on the colors of my background and that’s why you don’t see me. but does my shape not define me? can you see a clear outline? maybe my edges blur into the whirlwind of an evolving world but are my features not sharp? can you see the feeling infused in these lined eyes? ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    have i become only a ghost of a memory to you, footprints in the wet sand, leaving their imprint for only so long, fading with each coming wave, until the impact i'd made is washed away, no evidence it had ever been there? have i become only a speck in the water, getting tossed and t...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    There are people who come into your life to stay, and there are the fleeting ones who appear and then leave. Those who stay impact your daily life. You hear their words, fall under their influences, but are not left with a lasting impression. Those who go leave footprints on your mind and on your he...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    He had seen her in a café two days ago, and now the phone was ringing. She had been cool and aloof in the coffeehouse, but the bright jangle of the telephone seemed to hint at the way she had once been, the smiles that had once graced her face, and as the phone rang he remembered the sound of her l...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I remember the day I that began to dread answering the telephone. It had started out commonplace, ordinary, lacking in any defining events. Gabriel and I had begun renting our shared apartment close to six months ago, and it was starting to feel like a true home. We were blissfully happy together, ...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I was lying on my bed looking out the window when the rain started. It was that sudden kind of rain, the type where the clouds roll into a previously clear sky in minutes, and in a split second previously clear air is filled with fast, hard pelting raindrops. It didn’t last long; the clouds unleas...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    “And as she walks through the vale of death, let her journey be enhanced by looking down on her loved ones…” As I listened to the unfamiliar minister continue his long speech, I became steadily less interested. While harsh winds whipped around us, I simply thought of my mother. Phoebe would ne...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    No one knew exactly when it was that April started acting funny. No one, that is, except for me. No one else knew what caused it. No one else knew what was wrong with her mind, why she suddenly couldn't ever be around small children, or why she had the terrible nightmares that plagued her ni...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I brushed the tears from my cheeks as I stumbled down the steps, turning as I reached the end. As I stared up at the cathedral, others swarmed around me. I saw hands held, people embracing, kisses on cheeks, and as it was each Sunday, I felt the pang of loneliness inside myself. I didn’t know w...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    They were walking down the street in the city when she stopped, dead still in the midst of the steady flow of pedestrians. “Do you see it?” she said. “The lights, the stores, all of these appearances people put on.” She turned and looked straight into his eyes, her gaze vacant and penetratin...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Will was my very best friend. He always was, it seems like, from as far back as I can remember. It’s difficult to imagine life without him. I guess I must have done it once, but my memory’s pretty hazy these days. It seemed like he’d always been there by my side, so I’d never learned to stan...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    “I’m a musician, first and foremost,” he told her, and through the depths of their relationship this was his refrain. She did not understand, nor did she desire this ultimatum to place its hold on her life, but she accepted it all the same. She saw the strings of his guitar and felt resentmen...

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