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- Fiction > Realistic FictionBy Miriam G., Chappaqua, NYYeah, boy I remember that day like it was right on last week! That sun was turning the sand diamond-like. You knows, does that when it’s hot. It was one of those mornin’s when everythin’ just moved a bit more slow. It had been like that for a while, now. The drought made everyone a little more...
- Fiction > All FictionBy Miriam G., Chappaqua, NYJim’s breath flowed in an even pattern as he waited for the ambulance. It was just before midnight: he’d be home early tonight. His iPod hung loosely from his ear as he turned the key. The lock nodded into place. He allowed himself a deep sigh. This seat of his car was the most comforting p...
- Opinion > Current Events / PoliticsBy Miriam G., Chappaqua, NYIn 1927, the Slavery Convention outlawed the institution of involuntary labor in order “to bring about, progressively and as soon as possible, the complete abolition of slavery in all its forms.” However, in a report by the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC), human trafficking,...
- Fiction > All FictionBy Miriam G., Chappaqua, NY“Thank you, five” are the heaviest words I know. My acting coach used to say that by the time you say that thank you, five “you’d better be so into your character you can smell their breakfast on your breath…” So, sorry, I probably should have started this differently. “Thank you, fiv...
- Nonfiction > All NonfictionBy Miriam G., Chappaqua, NYShe couldn’t remember how they got there. The room, so dark and familiar, was only visible through cracks between her fingers. Why was she here? She let the air blow out slowly from her lips. If theater was good for one thing, it’s good for controlling emotions. Too bad she hadn’t done a show ...
- Hot Topics > Pride & PrejudiceBy Miriam G., Chappaqua, NYToo many dawns start out like this: with blood-drawn, drunken eyes searching for their redemption. My mornings start before the sun’s. So, here’s to the night that I left, preemptively, for responsibility’s sake. Thick grains were rolling in my mouth: their taste relieving themselves on my to...
- Poetry > All PoetryBy Miriam G., Chappaqua, NYMy Fingers looked different the day after you died; Young, now spoiled, And lonelier than before. Baruch dayan emet Blessed is the one true Judge ----- On an old recording, a child squeals to greet a Seagull’s call: The one that tells of supple sand that eats our toes. And it almost ...
