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  • Nonfiction > All Nonfiction
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    I cradle the hand between mine; my fingers search for any imperfections, any bumps, any dips in its smooth surface. I stare down upon my creation and smile. The hand lies limp in my own, the red clay, soaked in iron, stains my fingers, but I listen only for the faint heartbeat that pulses throughout...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    I pulled out the scraped shoe box, stained with memories. I uncovered it from the deepest recesses of my closet, underneath the unwanted stuffed animals that I deemed myself too old for, but not yet old enough to abandon. Like an archeologist in an Egyptian tomb, I avoided the booby traps of unstabl...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    In tiptoes the lanky, long-limbed librarian, ducking her head as she approaches the doorway. Sagging her shoulders, she attempts to vanish into the bare beige walls of the quiet library. She walks up to her desk stiffly, sits down and assumes her position at the check-out desk. Her gaze runs around ...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    Moaning and gasping, I crawl helplessly to the bathroom door, pushing and dragging myself across the cold tiles. Leaning my weight against the door I manage to open it, only to have it cede against my weight making me fall pitifully onto the beige tiles. I lie there a moment, dazed, disoriented and ...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    I look at her from across the green marble counter. She’s laughing at a joke I have forgotten; yet in this moment we are happy. I take a mental picture of her, filing it away with memories of parks, lazy days at the beach, and nights spent watching movies in comfy old leather couches. Her hair cur...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    -Papi… Lost in his thoughts again, his eyes open, he seems asleep, dreaming. He makes a fist, his jaw clenching, and then jerks backwards in his old wooden chair. I tug on his sleeve gently. Finally, he looks at me with his pale blue eyes, wondering how long I’ve been there. -What sweetie?...
  • Nonfiction > Memoir
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    The wailing howl of the wind reaches my ears through the plaster wall. The wind whips through the trees, tearing leaves from branches, branches from trees. It claws through my mind, extirpating a hidden memory. No longer do I hear the wind, for it has morphed into the mournful sighs of an accordion....
  • Nonfiction > All Nonfiction
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    Human nature frequently drives us to seek refuge in normality, but we should never allow our desire to belong to overpower our true identities. In W. H. Auden’s “The Unknown Citizen”, we read of he, the ideal citizen, a flawless cookie cutter man. As we unravel more of the poem, we comprehend ...
  • Nonfiction > All Nonfiction
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    Storms are magnificent. They are clouds slowly churning together to create something more. They brew together, united to create one thing: rain. Rain, a key created to unchain us from our warped realities, takes our minds in its cold, cleansing arms and shows us the true world we live in. The clo...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    What did happen to the majestic waves of the ocean? What did happen to the timid whisperings of the trees? What did happen to the calm unmoving sun? What did happen to the teasing waltz of the wind? What did happen to the joyful melodies of the birds? What did happen to me?...
  • Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
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    Last chance Her hair shown brightly in the darkness of the night. It glimmered dark like the deep, cold, treacherous waters of an unforgiving nightmare. But yet it shone. Yes it shone like dazzling stars, all shimmering in unison. Beautiful. Elegant. Celestial. But it was not her heavenly mane th...
  • Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
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    A soul as dark as blood The woman looks at the family smiling all together, happy, dead. She does not think of the pain they went threw as she slit there fragile throats with a meticulous slice of her dagger. She does not think of the family they lost. Nor, the dreams that simply left their the...

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