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  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    Some days, I believe I was born old. Old thoughts, old heart, old bones puttering away in a child’s body. Other days, I wonder if I will ever be young again, or if life has branded me as prematurely elderly and will leave it at that. Growing up, I spent a majority of my time with my grandmother ...
  • Nonfiction > Academic
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    Hamlet is an exaggerated reflection of life, a hyperbolic “mirror of nature” on both the page and on stage. Like life and death, betrayal and madness come hand in hand. Rarely are these concepts ever cut and dry, but rather intertwined with one another. As shown in Hamlet, it is very much a ca...
  • Nonfiction > All Nonfiction
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    There’s something about small towns that remind me of a place I used to call home. Auburndale, Florida, though it’s grown in the years I’ve been gone, was once such a town. It had a Main Street diner, one park for the entire community, a dry cleaners, a few downtown stores, and the Ariana Ho...
  • College
    Guide > College Essays
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    I learn because I cannot imagine a world where we accept life as it hits us. I cannot imagine a world with no questions, no curiosity, no eureka moment of discovery. Such a place does not, and should not, ever exist. That moment of clarity before understanding, that itch to jump off as you stand o...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    He stares at the camera, a growl stuck in the recess of his throat, wild animal eyes wide behind thick framed glasses. He is not a Traveler, but a Doctor, a man of medicine and of light, yet bruises litter the space beneath sunken lids. He is not a Traveler, but he is worn like one, exha...
  • Fiction > Thriller/Mystery
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    Somehow, the bitter taste in his mouth never goes away, whether it’s his first month on the case or his fifteenth. This time, the girl is Anna Marie Langston, a graduate student at the nearby university. Her skin, like every other victim in this god awful nightmare, has been flayed open into sym...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    When I was a child, I kept a dream catcher above my head, it's feathered ends brushing the tip of my nose on the nights when I couldn't sleep, when monsters in the dark kept me awake. I imagined, in the way a child's brain is wont to do, that my dreams were stories from another world, so...
  • Poetry > Sonnet
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    I am not so much emotion, as flight. a blue jay's wings fluttering in midair, molecules of dust caught in morning light. The crescent curve of a moon laid bare. To Paint, To Create, To Dance, To Sing: I am energy flowing crown to toe and outwards, upwards, ever transforming ---- infectious...
  • Fiction > Thriller/Mystery
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    Her hair is a fan of auburn, red blooming from temples in the way you once saw the sun bleed out into the sky. Her eyes are wide open, gaping, staring at the nothing space between Here and There. In your hand, her hand lies limp, still warm, and your smile becomes an inverted imitation of a blade'...
  • Nonfiction > All Nonfiction
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    Without conflict there would be no songs sung in times of trouble, no paintings finished in moments of despair, and no stories told on fearful nights. Without conflict, there would be no art. Without change, nothing would grow-- no one would grow. Because conflict and change are a package deal, a ti...
  • Hot Topics > Health
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    Everywhere one looks in America, there is a fast food restaurant. Globally, names such as McDonald’s, Burger King, and Wendy’s have become recognisable. On every street corner, within walking distance from most schools, and with the added bonus of a drive-thru, fast food has become both a const...
  • Opinion > Social Issues / Civics
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    It’s eleven o’clock at night; the dishwasher is running, the sounds from upstairs have quieted down, and the television plays the first few chords of the nightly news opening. All seems to be well, correct? But then, drifting from the depths of the living room, begins a story --- only a glimpse ...
  • Poetry > Sonnet
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    frozen and dark atop a mountain side lies a forgotten house of broken stone. with an iron gate stretching far and wide, our cruel world has left its tenant alone. a living soul knows not who resides there among the barren plains and ashen land. a being who has found home in the lair of quie...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    this land is [y]our land broken barren vacant rusting at the edges of every iron corner this land is [my] land forgotten forlorn ragged wind haunting every broken window & every open door this land is [y]our land never [my] land...
  • Art /
    Photo > Photographs
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