Stories

Fiction

Poems and stories are the whisperings of angels we cannot see.

Story of the Week

I dream of snakes coming out of me and through the house to find her.

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Story of the Week

Their mother was the real beauty of the family, or so everyone said.

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First & Second Looks

A raucous voice I raise in praiseful song, but it’s myself I praise.

Poetry

I tell him: junkies are the only people worth talking to about love.

The signs of destruction confirm his apocalyptic suspicions, but they also satisfy his desire to “get it all over with.”

iStories

Howard found himself dancing the merengue with a buxom Puerto Rican.

At fifteen, Sam is becoming wise to the ambiguities of the world. And at fifteen, she can’t yet accept them.

Story of the Week

Her name sprang to my lips in strange prayers and praises.

Story of the Week

I tried mightily, but no longer could I ladle those ancient words into the air.

Narrative Outloud

The girl marched directly up to me, glaring, and said, “You hit my dog.”

iPoems

Bone unspools its musculature to the crush of atmosphere.

N30B Winners

do you asks pretty sue know what I love what pretty please tell us

Story of the Week

The elevator inside him begins to fall with dizzying speed.

Poem of the Week

When push comes to shove, I can get downright Aeolian on you, son.

iPoems

The first time we love, how tight we hang on to keep from drowning.

Fiction

The pillow into which her face was turned muffled her voice.

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Poem of the Week

Tears sometimes come in a bottle. Open and apply several times daily.

Narrative “Tell Me A Story” High School Contest

Women should hate it when people whistle at their backs as they walk past.

Nonfiction

Later, in a sudden about-face, she gives herself to him entirely.

Story of the Week

I didn’t trust her. Relationships like ours aren’t built on trust.

Poem of the Week

When she sleeps, Shakespeare writes one more sonnet we’ll never read.

Story of the Week

Children are never old enough to understand their parents’ affairs.

Poem of the Week

The five notes, slowly, over & over, and with some light intent.

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Story of the Week

He knows what she’s seeking, and he knows she won’t find it.

Story of the Week

I grew accustomed to seeing the sun rise and set from the school.

Story of the Week

He’s weirdly hard to pay attention to, even when he’s threatening you.

Poem of the Week

I only feel that here, only here, in this one place, a small rise.

Nonfiction

Why do girls want to cheerlead? Don’t they know it objectifies women?