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  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I find myself thinking about the old homeless man and his music a lot. I wonder what happened to him and whether he even liked black coffee or if he would have preferred some cream or sugar. I brought him coffee every Monday for five months, but I never asked. The first Monday was in October, bu...
  • Reviews > Book Reviews
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    The Book Thief floated around my mental-then-digital booklist for years. When I was in elementary school, librarians recommended it. I even checked it out from my public library once, but never read it. So it was put off for years and years until one day I was at Barnes and Noble and picked it up ag...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I am among zombies so nearly still. Beneath the forever drums that pound over our heads we are one. The lost children, we stepped away from a world on fire with hate and love to bury ourselves in this pit. Yes, I chose this promised end. But you know I'm a good liar. Like whe...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Caged on a wicker throne words conquer your mind as tears fill the sky. Where pages absorb fear with dry hands and encage it in beauty. You should go inside. But in the night you can't see the ghosts. Those wait inside, within the walls of the palace the war rages on. Th...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    That elusive thing that runs so quickly I never catch up - it will catch me soon. As sand slips through glass the clocks push away the seconds. So time steals itself away. Those seconds that turn to minutes minutes to hours and hours to numbered days. But drips like honey scrap...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I'm waiting for the light to turn green, watching teenagers smoke under the protection of the bus shelter, and thinking that some things never change. Christmas has passed, but tomorrow the town will wake up covered in a white blanket. I can't see the beauty in the first snowfall tonight. It lea...

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