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  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    Your mom got me around early September. It was a slow day in the shop, and I was so tired of just hanging out. I wanted someone to buy me, I mean, what’s wrong with being wanted? I watched her bump into a younger girl’s cart. It was when she turned around to apologize that she laid eyes on me. I...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Some of us might not play instruments, But we are writers. We play the keyboard And think to the beat of a pencil Tapping, tapping, tapping. We strive for a steady beat made up of words And the chicken scratch scribble of a pen. Sometimes the tune we play is misconstrued, And we crea...
  • Poetry > Haiku
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    The Box of Crayons Is a child’s best friend, that says, Please express yourself....
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I sat at the kitchen table, and heard dishes clanging together and the fridge opening and closing occasionally. I knew it was my dad that was in the kitchen, for his footsteps were heavier than mom’s. I guess that wasn’t the only reason I knew it was dad. Mom wasn’t around as much anymore. Not...

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