by Jason Grant The entire king-sized bed is mine now, but I can’t seem to move from the left side to the right because on the nights you were here—laying there—if I dared move from my side to yours in the middle of the night it was like I-was-crossing-some-boundary you-needed…
by Gonzalinho da Costa Zero was invented in India when Hindu philosophers made great efforts to empty their minds. They came up with nothing. Toilet paper, which first appeared in China, caught on very quickly among the populace. It was manufactured in huge quantities, and when the emperor would order…
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 Libby O’Connor Dear Mr. Frost, I do not think this path is wide enough for the two of us. There is a road you’ve traveled, that I’d like to tread; But, Mr. Poe, my rapid heartbeat is driving me mad with its unrelenting T H U M P I…
by Libby O’Connor I raised my sword -a simple quill!- and poked each finger until the ink did spill upon the page, I swirled the ink and bent them to my will, and from the words upon the page, my inky callus did swell.
by Libby O’Connor I step out in the pristine snow and think, ‘a blank, white page,’ my footprints trail behind me as I travel onward, they punctuate my blank, white page -with essence of me.
by Katherine Yoerg Ms. Geneva Pruitt greatly enjoyed her morning coffee and cinnamon roll at Wall Street Deli on her way in to work every morning. She enjoyed selecting a flavored creamer, sitting at the window, and stirring the creamer into each steaming cup. She enjoyed the way the steam…
by Michael C. Keith There is something about poverty that smells like death. Dead dreams dropping off the heart like leaves in the dry season and rotting around the feet. …
By Michael C. Keith Television can have dire effects on the young mind. – George Gerbner In 1954, me and my best friend, Carlos Munoz, would go down to Bailey’s Appliance Store on Foster Street and stand in front of its display window and watch television. My dad said they…
by Christy Bailes Silky froth seeps through the window cracks and battles with a 1950s cast-iron radiator heater. The smell of vanilla frosting wakes Anne from two-hour’s worth of slumber. Still dressed with last night’s clothes, she sits up in bed. Vodka and pill bottles tumble off her legs and…
by Debbi Harris Camille Portaine was reckless in her vanity, not subtle at all, which might have made it more palatable. Her teeth shown white and pearly, but the smile itself was rather dark, often tinged with disdain. Friends were accessories, like gemstone-encrusted headbands, sky-blue eye shadow, and designer handbags—accoutrements…