SNHU Creative Writing Posts

April Fool’s Day

by Dean Knight The party was on April Fool’s Day, but Daniel had no thoughts of practical jokes. Although Claire had been only sporadically returning his texts recently, tonight, he felt, would be when things would get back on track again. It’s a major step to proceed beyond the first…

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Ambition

by Amy Covel I’m not here To be a hero Just a world-shaker Here to erupt As a volcano A ticking time bomb Whose time is up Remembered only For that one sudden Explosion.  

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Boomerang and Sadie

by Cynthia Roby Boomerang was Sadie’s man, and he got his name by definition: Every time she threw the lying cheater out, she’d cry, howl, and moan, all before that need-to-satisfy ache in her groin pried her thighs apart and let her Boomer back in—until the dag-gone fool never returned….

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Quite the House

by Carolyn Weisbecker My hand flew to my nose, and I held my breath as I stepped through the doorway. What am I doing here? A foul, but unmistakable odor hung from the ceiling and followed me as I carefully walked through the house. Death, left alone for too long,…

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Rabbit Cage

by David Armand My brother and I are playing outside while our dad nails together the frame for a rabbit cage. It’s for our sister who’s out at the store with Mom. They’ve taken the only car we have: a blue Pinto we rent for sixty dollars a week, a…

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Geese Above the Church

by John P. Kristofco in autumn clouds above the church, twenty, maybe thirty geese align like praying hands, aimed at something promised by the wisdom of their hollow bones, agate eyes acknowledging the sun; they sweep above our sanctuaries, sidewalks, all the places where we leave our lives behind, in…

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Sea Glass

by Gil Hoy When you’re a bottle 29 years go by fast, Not necessarily so for a little girl. Through Hurricane Hugo The whipping winds The crashing rain The stones that missed You, you survived intact to tell the tale of an 8 year old girl who walked along the…

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This Land is Your Land

by Aila Alvina Boyd The temperature was hot and the sun was unforgiving. It was a horrible day to have a graveside service, but nevertheless, events such as that aren’t typically scheduled based on the weather or convenience. It was the first time in nearly 50 years that all of…

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A Man Walks into a Bar

by Robert Barhite I hate cops. I grew up in Postville, Iowa, way up in the northeast corner of the state and not too far from the Mississippi River. Nothing much ever changed in my hometown. I went to the same red brick two story grade school built in 1908…

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Making Her Way

by Elliott Laurence She’s closer to ninety there she is though this sunny morning making her way Hitch in her stride cane in hand. years of osteo’ I’d bargain have left her hunched over. Past the used car lot. Pushing her way past the H&R Block. Never seen her turn…

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