by Tyler Townsend A memoir of Jordan. I The vast majority of the area located around Queen Alia International Airport consists of rolling sand hills and sparse trees, which give next to no shade. The sun in mid-June is a murderous fiend. The locals, who are obviously acclimated to the…
by Cheryl Sola I was born. Damn. Can’t anything go right? That was thirty years ago and nothing’s changed. Today’s my birthday, June 6th. Pa said my birthday numbers add up to 6–6–6. And because that number means the devil, my Pa called me the devil’s child, and got an…
by Heather Maieli That son of a bitch! She caught the punching bag as it swung back at her after her last punch, her fingers digging into the red leather. Its chain gave an almost protesting wail as if threatening to break free from the ceiling. She had been going…
by Sarah Leslie We were the only two who could ever get into your head. Jack convinced you I manipulated you. But all he ever did was flush away reason and stir up a rage. It was never easy to pick between the two of us. You and Jack went…
by Dennis Daniels Blanz Valentine is an average guy who works on an assembly line of Ford Manufacturing Company. He fancies himself as the companies counselor who has all the answers for everyone’s problems. Many see him as the man behind the bar that they bring their troubles to for…
by Maria Segure He was still now. I stared at him for a long moment. As much of a moment as I could bare. He was still. I could feel my anger rising. My irrational, unexplainable anger. And I felt helpless too. Because I did not want to be here….
Hundreds of writers submitted their work to SNHU’s 2016 Fall Fiction Short Story Competition. After careful review, our panel of judges narrowed the field down to these top 5 finalists. Read them all and vote for your favorite in the form below! Voting closes on Dec. 31, 2016. Finalist 1: SECOND SILENCE…
by Kayla Miller “What’s the matter, baby?” He taunts, slowly prowling the living room. He’s a jungle panther with metal claws ready to slice open my jugular, and he’ll try anything to wrench out my heart since I’ll never give it to him. My brown, yellow sun-face peeks over the…
by Emily K. Murphy Though I lived in the legendary town of Calculus, it was some time before I had the pleasure of having a dress made by the Misses Spratt. They were the premier dressmakers in town who served even the great Lady Taylor Maclaurin, making them well-known throughout…
by Kathleen Katims I am shy. In my Brooklyn elementary school, it is painful for me to look in people’s eyes, to speak up, to say what I am thinking. In every encounter people tell me they can’t hear me and to speak louder. In sixth grade the teacher asks…