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  • Poetry > Haiku
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    Falling apples cry for the safety of the trees they’ve always known....
  • Fiction > Thriller/Mystery
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    It’s not my fault, you see, for I cannot be convinced she was even real. The existence of those dreamt-up characters should lie solely in their subconscious lodgings. And yet, how vivid she was-- how real, when at last she came up to my door! Surely if you could see how truly and inexplicably they...
  • Poetry > Sonnet
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    Sometimes I wish I could just be a cat I’d laze around, swat papers, sleep all day, and no one would even care about it. And life would be peaceful. Life would be calm. That peace, that simplicity of being, an unhurried ride down some calm river, (one without bumps or problems to bruis...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    My thoughts were so loud that day; I just couldn’t keep them inside my mouth. “Mom, I’m gay. I like men,” and the regret hit instantly. You sobered up for a moment before turning to extremes. Shock widened your eyes, casting you as the deer to my headlights, and then you snorted, let out a...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I can't drink my tea until it has cooled down, so I sit. And I wait. And I watch. The man with the chaotic hair tries to wrangle his children. (I wonder how he could possibly tame them if he can't even manage his hair.) In the corner a woman enveloped by her coat is wrapped up in some nov...
  • Opinion > Entertainment / Celebrities
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    Everyone is flipping out because it’s “the end” and whatnot, but I really haven’t been feeling it that much. I think it’s because I realize that this isn’t the end of anything at all. Yes, it is the last movie. Yes, it is the last time we will get something fresh to obsess over as a comm...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I remember when told you about me, about what you referred to only as my “condition.” That’s what you called it before my ostracism, that is. I think it’s safe to assume you don’t even refer to it now, or to me for that matter. Anyway, I suppose I could have approached it differently. I ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Arms folded to keep herself from falling apart, she sits, legs swinging and twisted at the ankles, shoelaces untied. The tears blur her vision, but she can still see the untruthful promise of the white coat, the childish paintings mocking her with innocence. She curls her legs up to her ...

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