by Aurora DePuy Gossip started brewing the day he arrived. It was to be expected in a town with just under a thousand people. He’d bought a shop and was cleaning the window the first time I passed. Our eyes met and his hand stilled on the glass. Sister Pfeiffer…
Posts Tagged online creative writing degree
Milk and Honey
by Dawn Fryauff No life bears forth from this desert. No seed takes root in this place. Be fruitful and multiply is Not A promise, but instead A command. Unfulfilled; My failure punctuated Monthly by Deep contractions of longing Birthing sand and scorched seed From this withered waste of a…
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…
Far Off Honey
by William Bortz I sit and count, in a midday sun, my troubles and woes the casted shadows of full limbs and branches poking through my kitchen window and stretching down the wall the blackened tips of my weary fingers- filing and sorting sight encumbered within my head; a cracked…
Loyal Lady
by Brianna Kittrell She greets you at birth, and you cry in her presence, still she becomes a part of your essence. She sways with the trees and rustles the leaves, and her beauty deserves more praise than it receives. Though she is giving and kind, she is often taken…
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…
No Need of gods
by Jenny Andrews Days lie down crumble all around ruins obscured in mid-February shadows Sundays lost amid gods long forgotten. Sleeping in with a remembrance of his hand at the small of my back, resting there, his lips flutter behind my earlobe, the scent of him-musky like sweat, his kiss…
A Distant Memory
by Brianna Kittrell I wake up each morning and somehow remember less, from my father’s favorite song to my mother’s favorite dress. The moments of yesterday just barely linger, I try to grasp the memories, but they evade my desperate fingers. There are small flashbacks from happenings long ago, but…
Fire and Drums
by Donald Griffin I can see them, the dancers, over there in the distance. Men and women whirl around the fire their silhouettes mimicking every movement upon the lighted canyon wall behind them. Drum beats reverberate through the cool crisp night air, like a thousand hearts beating and pumping life…
The Scene of My Dreams
by Renata De la Cruz Monteón Night starts; leaves, branches dancing with the wild wind while crickets sing love songs.