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  • College
    Guide > College Articles
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    We all have dreams that last for years and years and, even if only in small ways, begin to define us. My dream was to attend a college located on the banks of the Hudson River. On the back roads of New York, soldiers march, Humvees wind around curves, and you are greeted by the far-off sound of gunf...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    The smell filled his nostrils as he entered the shop. It was a musty smell. One that many people found repulsive, but Damian Harris found invigorating. Removing the keys from the lock, he flipped the ‘closed’ sign to ‘open’, and began turning on the lights. Damian was a manager, of sorts...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    This was a country that had known its share of invaders. The roads and desserts were littered with the destroyed war machines of the past, and the present. Buildings bore the unmistakable signs of shell and mortar damage, and the ground, just below the surface was littered with exploded shells. ...
  • College
    Guide > College Essays
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    The tour starts off shakily, with seemingly negligible interest within the group, but I finally get their attention. I tell them about Ulysses S. Grant's last trip to the overlook and the weakened state it left him in – he did have cancer. I pause before I continue. This is my favorite part of the...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    “Why do you keep asking where I was?” “Why don’t you tell me the truth?” “I am!” “No. No you’re not.” Alex glared at the doctor sitting across from him. The man had been condescending, insensitive and not easily satisfied. The two had been sitting in his office for more...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    The heat of the August sun was beating down on the Great Escape water park and the air seemed liked a heavy, all encompassing, wool blanket. The park was at this time quiet, as it would not open for another ten minutes. The rest of the park had come alive over three hours ago and the distinct rattli...
  • Fiction > Historical Fiction
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    A cold wind blew across the countryside of France. Close to the ground it traveled with an intensity that chilled everything in its path like a wind of cold destruction. As it blew across the snowy countryside, it met a different type of destroyer. War. The fields that a short few years ago wou...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    The house was full of memories. I had spent a lot of time there as a kid. I remember the large, thick rug that sat in the living room. It was here that I used to lie on my stomach, fiddling with the tassels that comprised the fringe, and watching TV or listening to my grandmother. I remember the whi...
  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    A common phrase you hear is that “a picture is worth a thousand words.” I’m no authority on the subject, but in my opinion that’s simply not true. Think about it. When you look at a photograph, words do not go through your mind. Emotions do; emotions that we can try and translate into words,...

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