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  • Fiction > Historical Fiction
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    The Life of Masey Cooper Economic Titanic -1929 Yesterday, Masey asked her dad what this ‘stock market’ deal was. Truth be told, he didn’t really know exactly what it was, but he must have understood enough to know what he was doing. He told her that it was a share in a company that s...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    Dear David, Early August, 1863 Life in Richmond, Virginia is horrible. My friend Charice Davis had a brother was killed by his own cousin! And you are fighting with the Union when I am a nineteen-year-old sympathizer for the Confederates. Last week there was a battle that was f...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    It is dark and damp Shoulder to shoulder we are cramped. When it rains we live in mud And are soaked in sweat and blood. When the weather turns cold And the wind begins to blow, The blood freezes and fails to flow When the enemy begins attrition I’m tempted to leave with out permission ...
  • Fiction > Historical Fiction
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    Image Credit: Brian H., E. Amherst, MA The author's comments: This is a story of what life was like on the Oregon Trail. Dear Rosy, (Prologue) April 15, 1842 I am going to call my diary Rosy now. I once had a best friend in Boston, and her name was Rosy. So way over here in I...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    Over the Cliff of Destruction There was an ocean of grass as far as one could see. But the Sioux knew more than just the prairie. They knew the secret treasures of the plains: buffalo. The Red Buffalo tribe was a nomadic tribe. They followed the buffalo herds. To the Red Buffalo’s, buffalo ...
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    Beauty and the Frog Once upon a time, there lived a rich man who was the accountant of the king. The rich man was named Martin. Mr. Martin was sadly widowed five years ago in a carriage crash. Mr. Martin was left with two daughters and one son. From the eldest to the youngest they were named, Cha...
  • Fiction > Thriller/Mystery
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    The End of Brice M. Princeton The rain streaked down the grimy windows as long, bony fingers slowly pried them open. The window creaked with age as they slid aside. A medium sized figure climbed into the house without so much as a clink on the moldy planks from the wearers boots. Pity to whom who...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    I long to feel the slippery coolness, To see your sparkling jewels of Sapphire To hear your tinkling music of water Trickling around smooth glossy stones, To smell your sweet fragrance of Violets in the meadow To taste you pure from a mountain stream You give joy to the oceans, Beauty to ...

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