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  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    A quiet morning A sleeping sun Distant voices… A scuffle has broken out in the town square! Pointed fingers and long stares Mouths open and words declare: “Witches! Witches!” A peaceful afternoon A cheery sun Muffled shouts… In the church, townspeople are changing...
  • Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
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    Everyone has that one place from their childhood that doesn’t quite live up to expectations once revisited. The old mystery and beauty that only a child could see with their earnest eyes slips away over time. For me, it was the chipped stone bench that sat vigil under a weeping willow tree. Its...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I stand outside the window and look in at the girl in the passenger seat. Slowly regaining consciousness, she feels the scratchy lining of the seats against her cheek. Her eyes open and take in the sight of the shredded passenger-side door. The world spins for a minute, then gradually settles dow...
  • Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
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    John Goodman came home from work that day weary, but glad to finally get away from the mountainous pile of paperwork that had sat on his desk for the past week. He also wanted to get away from his co-workers, who had ignored him all day and looked very upset. But every time he would ask what was w...
  • Fiction > Fan Fiction
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    People tell me that I look beautiful today, but I can only smile shakily in reply. My hair is fastened in an elegant bun, and I wear my best dress, but I hate fancy clothes. Whenever I wear a nice dress, it usually meant one thing: that I am going to a reaping. Alice, my older sister, turned 19 t...
  • Fiction > Action-Adventure
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    A figure rose out of the mist. Its edges were blurred; it seemed more like a hazy blob than a person. The mist suddenly cleared a bit and his face could be seen. It was long and pale, with dark eyes that stared straight ahead, not focused on anything. A long black jacket swished as his knobby, s...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    How come that little voice inside our heads Makes our best choices brain-dead And fills our minds with angry thoughts instead So we don’t listen to what our hearts had said How come what our mouths must say Makes us later, at some point, pay And we throw kind words away So we won’t use ...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    The air had the cold, crisp feeling of snow. Dancing snowflakes rained down on me, looking like they were silk spun by the most gifted spinster who had an eye for beauty. They covered my hair and scarf in little white fuzzies that melted instantly and left me quite wet. The only sound was the cru...
  • Art /
    Photo > Pen & Ink
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