SNHU online creative writing Posts

Shells

by Chelle Royal The sounds of the ocean rush through the opening of a seashell, capturing the memories of a seaside village within its soul. Infinite sunsets witnessed, lives reincarnated, countless Atlantic baptisms, sandcastle turrets, precious keepsake of a summer spent in the sand. A shell blasts from the barrel…

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For When You Ask What I Am

by Elaine Granados I am escaping into the hallway, letting #401’s door thud behind, closing on heavy heat open windows could never lift and the constant smell of black beans cooking, on sirens and horns of Koreatown (before Starbucks and Target on the corner), on the buzzing in my head,…

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To Be Forgiven

by Bonnie E. Carlson She dreaded having to make the amends, but it ate away at her. “It’s time,” her sponsor said. “Put on your big girl pants. You’ll feel better when it’s done.” In previous attempts at sobriety, Laurel had never gotten to AA’s steps eight and nine—make a…

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Alone

by Amy Covel I’ve become accustomed To eating alone Out of little glass jars While I stare out the window And count the stars The heavens know That one lonely soul’s Not a constellation Of a crowded table All alone.  

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First Born

by Jeanne Althouse I was born in a hallway. My pregnant Mother had lovely brown hair curled in the style of Ingrid Bergman in the movie Casablanca. She defined her lips with dark red from a stick, her nose with loose white powder she stored in a gold case and…

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Mornings with Liam

by Terrence Litwiller Of all the benefits I’ve encountered since moving into “semi-retirement” earlier this year, the one I am most grateful for is my mornings at home with my now 20-month old grandson, Liam. My wife and I are blessed that for this time period he and his mom…

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The Divorce of Mr. Nell

by The Poet Darkling I always speak the truth – regardless of its relevancy to the conversation – and the truth is I knew she wanted it; knew she was saving it expressly for after supper, she’d told me as much but I didn’t care… not right then. The night…

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Go Round

by Amy Covel There I was, going around in circles. My companions run beside me to the tune that has become our source of life. Without it, we are still. Without it, there are no smiling faces. The conductor has brought us to life. We bear upon our backs the…

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I Think A Lot

by Carli Chisenall I think a lot. I think a lot about death. The soft whisper of a soul, finally escaping its prison of flesh and sin. That one last exhausted breath. Solace, at last. I think a lot. I think a lot about life. It is everything and nothing….

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The Talking Doctor

by The Poet Darkling He was nice ………………..momma said I had to talk to him ………………..two days a week ……………………..and she would buy me ice cream after. I saw him Tuesdays & Thursdays at one o’clock. I saw him two days a week for two years. My mother told him…

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