Stories
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.
Story of the Week
A bird is chirping outside, the world is carrying on, and she is in it.
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.
Fiction
There was a glint of cold red light out there, on the other shore of the lake.
N30B Winners
Your soul feels old and familiar like a book that opens to my favorite pages.
Story of the Week
He knows what she’s seeking, and he knows she won’t find it.
Poem of the Week
That’s why Mam drinks whiskey. That’s why he drinks whiskey too.
Poem of the Week
We walk in light so steep I can see each single stitch of your sweater.
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?
Poem of the Week
Something crossing the Golden Gate catches the sun and ignites.
Narrative Taste
Why kill something so mild-mannered, entertaining, and sociable?
Fiction
Suddenly, all of the past seemed now like the same endless race.
Story of the Week
Sleepy and pensive, July succumbed to the day’s isolating heat.
Poem of the Week
Think of the fish whose stripes appear only on cooking through.
Fold each thought: the highway stop where toilet paper is piled.
Narrative High School Writing Contest
This body is all I have, I say. Some days it is still not enough.
First & Second Looks
Now the ashes were real, the pepper trees reduced to stubs.
Poetry
In a future we believe in, these plants will all be ghosts.
Poetry
He doesn’t notice the cop car rolling slow-motion into the station.
Poetry
This must be what it’s like to be seen by God as we inch toward the infinite.
Story of the Week
I have given everything at the wrong time, to the wrong people.
