By Keith Burton i was stretching my legs on the littoralgiving names to the shapes of the cloudsthat swam across the lake’s reflectionwhen trouble came crawling on eight legs. help me across he asked with a period. i knew better; i had an owl’s acuity.no can do, i know you…
By Maggie Kennedy That song again,and I am in that kissagain that felt so rightbut for the right person. The sudden downpour,dash from the bardown the lamp-lit street,breathless and laughingat our sodden clothes,smell of mud hungrybeneath melting snow,and what the hellshock of his lipsquieting my shivers. A kiss that mighthave…
By Cindy Mercedes She was made of sharp edges and soft curves,eyes a deep brown with specks of gold.She smelled of dew after a rain,of pine cones that littered forest floors. Everything about her was beautiful-from her compassion that blossomed with vibrant colors,breathing new life unto slumbering seeds.To her sincerity…
By Janet Zinser Arey Josie had been surprised to see Dale when she cut past the Feeley’s farm after school. He usually hung out by the old gas station riding his dirt bike. Today, he’d been waiting in the shade of the sugar maples. He’d brought her a gift. “Well?”…
By Jennifer Ward As a little girl, I was a dreamer. I wanted to be so many things—a teacher, a lawyer, an author, a fashion designer, an architect. Amid these dreams, I always imagined I would be happy doing something I loved. Still, during my first year of college, it…
By Lindsey Jones I grew up on the trashy side of town. Not necessarily the poor side, though we were that too, but the side where off-duty cops went to party and drunken rednecks used the highway as their personal dragstrip. The kids were dirty, the yards were full of…
By Kevin Broccoli I liked it better when we were on the bookcase. The titles were all lined up in front of us and we could read them aloud to each other every night. We’d come up with stories and attach them to the titles. The stories would produce other…
By Tim Brumbaugh Most people don’t believe me when I tell them that you can hear the snow fall. It’s true. It’s not one of those auditory hallucinations, when your mind convinces you that it heard something that isn’t really there. And it’s not something only I can hear. I’m…
By Michael Cabrera Even in the fall, it always felt like summer at my grandma’s house. Maybe it was just the weather of California, but it felt like her corner of the neighborhood radiated sunlight and warmth. From the shimmering of the concrete that led to the basketball hoop in…
By Hayden Pursley He checked his watch again. Then he thought of how he must look: sitting alone at a table for two, dressed and groomed nicely enough (he had tried very hard to not look like he was trying too hard), checking his watch then checking the entrance every…