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  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I sit uncomfortably on a comfortable car seat, wondering if there’s anything more to life than what’s happening right now. Today is the seventh Sunday since things changed for us, and there are only seven Sundays left. This wouldn’t be so bad if I had something to do, I think, looking over at...
  • Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
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    “It worked!” said the scientist, exhilarated, as indeed it had. Before her stood an almost uncomfortably familiar scene--a young woman, her back to the doorway, lost in thought while thinking of a particular time machine. But our arbitrary protagonist had no time for thinking. In the instant th...
  • Fiction > Sci-fi/Fantasy
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    You are looking at a time machine. There would be no point in explaining why such a thing exists, except that a person made it; how such a thing is possible, except that it is; or, and possibly most pressingly, who on earth would seek to make such a thing, except that she is the protagonist of this...
  • Fiction > Romance
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    I stand in the cool, grey hallway outside of our room, promising myself that this is the right decision. I should never have let you move in. Rap-tap. “Gimme a minute,” you say. “I’m changing.” I smile darkly. A minute later, you let me in. “Hello,” you say. “Lilly,” I say, ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I am timid. am not free. need help. need this. Sometimes, when I am dissatisfied I find myself fantasizing. Realistic things, unrealistic things A shouting match Me, telling them off A perfectly timed comeback Can you imagine? I keep them to myself (shutupshuptup) I retell them ...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    people dancing why aren't you dancing? people singing why aren't you singing? me standing i can't you stopping why not? eyes rolling its against my beliefs head tilting what beliefs? me exhaling i don't believe in god why not? shut up come on shut up i just sh...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Ellen wouldn’t call it “people-watching,” no. This was a study, if anything. Sitting in her favorite coffee shop on a Sunday afternoon, Ellen, her phone, pen, and little black notebook having been prepared on the table before her, began to study. “Table seven” she wrote neatly at the top...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I was sitting in my own backyard sucking on a blue popscicle, as I waited for the pool water to evaporate in the sun. It was a hot, breezy day, in my ninth summer ever. My dog was running across the yard, chasing rabbits that she would never catch. I really thought they were safe. ...

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