by RR Ewart It is a terrible thing To look at oneself in the mirror And not recognize the person Staring back at you. But that is what happened to me. I believed I would not change. I thought I would look the same and might not Even realize that…
Posts Tagged creative writing
Fearless
by Amy Covel Don’t be afraid To take a stand To fight For what you believe Don’t be afraid To walk alone To chase That impossible dream Don’t be afraid To love a world That people want To hate Don’t be afraid To find beauty In a world That crucifies…
I’m Pretending to Be a Yoga Teacher so That My Husband Won’t Leave Me
by Natalie King For two days straight, I watched yoga YouTubes and smoked a lot of pot. I burned a Krishna Das CD for fifty minutes of music. If you’ve never done yoga, and out of the blue you and your soft butt start doing bizarre contortions for five hours…
An Ode to My Saturn
by Ann Hosler Your mangled face was bared to the crisp January air. Teeth and hair and debris scattered across the snowy road. Thirteen may be unlucky, but those long years together built a sense of trust and familiarity. Loose chunks of pavement secreted beneath snow deceived us as your…
Sugar Puffs
by Janna Brooke Wallack The tiny genie flew up from the bottom of the cereal box and hovered over the table, eye-level with the cop. “You’re a thinker, Sal. I dig that,” he said, his little wings fluttering. “But you’ve got fifteen minutes, bro.” Sal could wish homes for the…
The Therapist
by Anne Johnston October in Georgia is a mosaic of orange, green, yellow, brown, red—of ash, birch, gum, oak, and evergreen trees that look down like elders onto the khaki pants, pastel prints, boat shoes, bourbon, and biscuits on the earth below. The elder trees nod and wave as the…
Worst Nightmare
by Brigitte Brkic Michelle shrugged off an impulse to flee as her eyes traveled up the long escalator, its end curving out of sight. Adjusting the diaper bag on her shoulder and hanging the curved handles of the umbrella stroller over her right forearm, she hoisted two-year-old Nicholas onto her…
Autumn
by Amy Southard I know when Autumn arrives, Usually early September here. The corn in my garden is ready for harvest, The silks turning brown. The pumpkins are beginning To turn more orange than green. Leaves are turning yellow, orange and red, Falling to the ground and crunching, As playful…
Things That Go THUMP in the Night
by Jeffery Williams Somewhere in the distance, there resonates familiar THUMP BUMP noises of clumsy little feet. In a bedroom, down a hall, in the kitchen, down the stairs, above my head, in my head, somewhere there is enthusiasm and mischief stirring. Here at the very bottom floor, surrounded by…
Contentment
by Gil Hoy Last night I dreamed the workers painting my house Brought all of their children to work in the morning With brushes and buckets of water, to wash and to clean To scrub the faces, like paintings on canvas, that had appeared overnight on the walls of my…