by Maggie Swofford We watchedthe flowersfold underthe summersun—105°windchill—we lookedout my bed-room window. I baked andcaked mymakeup on bythe windowsillonly to haveit drip off. The flowervase toreoff itsstandduring aviolentstorm,and wethrew ourlaundryat eachother asnights grewdim andhot. The nextday, everyday, we’dcross ourlegs andfoldthe wrinkledfabric backinto somethingwe couldwear.
Students in Southern New Hampshire University’s online liberal arts programs were invited to participate in the W.R.I.T.E. Challenge, an 8-week experiential learning program, working in groups to research and write a resource article related to writing. Beyond the challenge itself, the groups competed to be published in The Penmen Review. This is…
Students in Southern New Hampshire University’s online liberal arts programs were invited to participate in the W.R.I.T.E. Challenge, an 8-week experiential learning program, working in groups to research and write a resource article related to writing. Beyond the challenge itself, the groups competed to be published in The Penmen Review….
by Richard Adams Carey I remember my mother being an atheist about the aging process. “I don’t feel any different,” she would protest as the decades marched on. She didn’t deny the aches and pains, which she did feel, and which were different. It was more a mental thing, a…