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  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    Our speaker was a “former gay” man who had converted to Christianity, a survivor of sexual violence, HIV positive, suffering from anal cancer, with no male reproductive organs (they had been cut off), requiring a catheter, bags for waste, and various medicines that he constantly has to take, e...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    The earth reeks of moisture, brilliant red and rough like sand, speckled with rocks. The jungle looms on either side, lush with banana trees, leaves flapping in the breeze, and sweet sugar canes. Far above our heads is the sky, the most vibrant blue you have ever seen, sharp and saturated with col...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Frost decorates the window panes, glistening crystals of ice that mar the reflection in the glass. I press my hands against it, warm breath striking the window pane and beginning to melt the delicate frost. Outside I can see the snow, falling softly upon the ground, great heaps of perfect snowflakes...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    As I sit quietly on the floor, I can hear a drumbeat throbbing in my head. No one else can hear it, only me. It sounds like a heartbeat. One lone heartbeat, steady and sure, comforting me as I sit alone. Loneliness is not something I am accustomed to. Surrounded by family, friends, and even random s...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Dear Mr. Anonymous, I can see you Hiding there Shield your face Hide your eyes Especially your heart Some of you are pretty Others ugly But all of you are the same Dear Mr. Anonymous Please come out and play Can’t you spare the time? Don’t hide behind closed doors In the dar...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    Twelve years marks only a short span of time – eight years from this day, after two decades have passed, I will look back and say that what I remember is nothing. But today, the memories of that day still overwhelm me. I remember the scent of the grass, the heat of the sun on the pavement of t...
  • Nonfiction > Heroes
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    My superman doesn't wear a cape. Only the spandex if he really wants to; wants to see the smiles, hear the laughter; wants to be whoever he chooses. He doesn't even wear a mask; not one that you can see, anyway. I didn't believe in heroes not so long ago. I didn't believe in tru...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    The interior of the car is warm, soft, comforting. The familiar tan fabric of the seats is smooth beneath my fingertips as I rest my hand on it, the other clutching at my sketchpad, the portrait of a woman staring out at me with soft, pitying, mouth half open as if to speak or cry out. As if to warn...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    In a far away land there are children. Being born, living, and dying in filth. Their clothes are tatters, their feet bare, faces barely covered by skin stretched to tight over bones, eyes wide and yellow, pained by hunger. You can count their ribs through their papery thin skin, decorated by open so...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    The time death stole was precious. It was something we all treasured; it was a jewel, cradled loving in our palms, and then it was stolen, plucked from our hands by death's cold fingers and carried off without hope of recovery. Gone; all of the promise of weeks and months with someone we loved ...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    The roads twist and turn like snakes, bending suddenly without giving warning, or splitting off into different roads that lead down wooded paths, cast into shade by the green canopy above. The mountains are a respite from the suffocating muggy air of the valley. The red dirt of South Carolina an...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Everything is dark and cold. The earth smells of decaying bodies, and the rain that drips through the loosely packed soil tastes of bitter mud. The walls around me threaten to cave in, forcing the air from my lungs as I gasp. The choking cry that issues from my lips is instantly stopped by the woode...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    There is no name for this. There are no words either. I’ve stared at a blank page for an hour, unable to fill it. Every letter, every word—meaningless. It’s like the gift God gave me has disappeared; vanished from beneath my fingers so now they close on thin air. I tried to tell a story, but f...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    Cables twist around my feet like snakes, ensnaring me in their black coils. There are metal poles, wooden boxes, glowing buttons and LED screens, knobs and switches, computer screens, microphones, amps, and people. All of them stare at me with blank faces, some of them inanimate objects that I only ...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    A lack of sleep weighs me down, but that voice in my head drives me on, nagging at me with an ever-constant panic. My voice is breaking; it no longer sounds like mine. The very idea that this is me is ludicrous. I do not run through the night, calling someone's name. I do not bang on doors in the da...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Maybe you never noticed this, but when things go wrong, they go all wrong. If an egg is bad in the cake batter you made, the whole batter is bad and you get food poisoning. That kind of thing. Maybe it’s because when something goes wrong we get upset and then when anything else, even the slightest...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I see darkness. As I stare out at the night that envelops my bed, I see nothing but the twilight shades of the dark. They dance across the floor and over the walls, writhing phantoms of my past; the creatures of my dreams that quickly shift to nightmares. They’re beautiful in the most horrible way...
  • Art /
    Photo > Photographs
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  • Art /
    Photo > Photographs
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  • Art /
    Photo > Photographs
  • Art /
    Photo > Photographs
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