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  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    I throw Spot a biscuit crumb. Mom made biscuits from a can this morning, and when she broke the metal tube open the dough popped out like the bad guys' guts did in that game Mike's allowed to play but I'm not. I play it with him anyway. The crumb lands on the boulder that sits righ...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    She rips open a sugar packet and dumps it into her coke. She grabs another. Rip. She folds the pink paper carefully into fourths before shoving them into her jacket pocket. She watches the white powder sink to the bottom of the red glass, strawberry snowflakes. She stirs it with her pinky, and ...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    Dad gave me a wink, like we were pals or something. I wondered if that's how he picked up barflies, batting his big brown eyes at them and jerking his head toward the door. I turned away as dramatically I could in the small car, crossing my arms and legs and scooting to the edge of my seat. I re...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Her mom bought a can of air freshener called “spring.” The little blue bottle sat on the windowsill in the bathroom, framed by a small window. Outside the window, it was still winter. Not nice snowy winter. Hard winter. Numb winter. Dull winter. The grass was dead, the trees bare....
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    I opened my mouth to sing, and out emerged a pebble Unblemished, golden, luminescent my dreams My lips parted in delight, and a diamond slipped between like a kiss of ice As I knelt in the grass, I let them fall Sapphire and ruby, onyx and pearl My thoughts and hopes and dreams and desires ...

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