Posts Tagged Featured Writing

Red Dress

by Manikya Veena You are completely crazy. In the past you have called yourself fat, stupid, lazy, and clumsy—all of which you are, to some extent or the other, but not crazy. Not until now. You are vacating the house, your home of four years. “I think it’s a good…

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Lamentations in Second Person

by Jon Bishop You’re an idiot, you say to yourself. You’re a complete and utter moron. Your hand is gushing blood, adding color to a day that matches the warmth and tone of the sidewalk. So why did you do it? Why did you smash the glass? Why did you…

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Chess at the Dealership

by Lou Gaglia In my twenties I played chess and even took a few lessons from a grandmaster in Queens. He was a very nice man, and his wife and daughter were equally nice, and he was patient with me. I learned that controlling the center of the board was…

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Why

by Kristina Swaim 5 My head plunged below the surface of the water. The water erupted in a tornado of movement. I dug my painted nails into the curved edge of the clawfoot tub as I tried to free myself from his grip. I just love him so much. Why…

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Cash’s Choice

by Chris Ross Fade in: INT. GYMNASIUM HALLWAY- DAY The room is pitch black with the faint sound of rapid speech and sneakers squeaking against the floor. The door opens and the light from outside illuminates the hall. KEN “CASH” MCDONALD, 17, enters the room as the door closes slowly…

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0 Nothing and Everything

by Lisa Harris Zero holds a place of absence, a mid-point between plus one and minus one. Look closely at a pie, a cake, a world—things we cut up. Once made, they cannot be enlarged, but they can be shared in different parts, in different pieces, in different chunks. Time,…

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The Road

by Charles Alexander Neal A long, crooked road stretched between the forested mountains deep in the heart of the country of Mariposa. It was evening and the sun painted the sky in shades of red and gold and cast dusty shadows on the beech trees surrounding a village. The evening…

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Fragmented

by Deana Wilson “TEN!” Dark.  Too dark. Cramped.  Stiff.  Stuffed in like carrots in a vacuum sealed bag.  Elbow in my gut; tangle of hair in my face. Carlotta! Too dark!  Can’t see! Blonde hair on my tongue.  Gasping…. “Carlotta!” How?  Why blonde?  How do I know — “Carlotta!” No…

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Porch Therapy

by Friar James Augustine It has become one of our most trusted routines—porch therapy. Either sipping on hot coffee waiting for the sun the rise, or having a few ‘cold ones’ in the evening as Mother Nature falls into a slumber, we enjoy it together.  The hectic rat race of…

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Emma’s Story

by Chelsea Eccleston The smoke stung my eyes, making them water uncontrollably. It burned my lungs, making me cough and unable to breathe. I crawled along the floor unable to tell where the door was. Was it in front of me? Behind? I was running out of time. I choked…

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