We believe students and readers everywhere deserve a great and free modern library, inside of which they can get deliriously, entertainingly, profoundly lost. And found.

Stories

Poem of the Week
A dwarf is now crying, he sounds swollen but golden with malediction.
Poem of the Week
Some say there’s a skeleton out here, a symbol of cleanliness.
Poetry
I could page the women’s voices in their velvet bags bound with string.
Poem of the Week
I have seen your ocean. I have heard your waves beside my bed.
Fiction
“were all here pregaming. at my dads apt. Wher the duck are u.”
Fiction
No one answered. I turned to his parents. My stomach felt on fire.
Poetry Contest Winners
He grew a forest of candles and cried when it succumbed to wildfire.
Nonfiction
It begins on the sunny morning of November 14, 1960.
Story of the Week
“I am not in the least fond of Venice. I should like to go far away!”
Fiction
We didn’t give the order to drop the bomb. But thank God somebody did.
Narrative Outloud
That day he stood on some threshold and paused and wept at his choice.
Fiction
For the first time in her life she stood naked in the open air.
Poetry
There is a baby in the square, plumped down on Papa’s thigh.
Poetry
Raw, glistening—god’s design. Her newborn flesh-on-the-bone.
Photography & Art
A photo essay on hope in the wake of the devastating Bosnian War.
Fall Contest Winners
It was good they were Africans, she thought. It meant less danger.
Poem of the Week
It comes as no surprise that everything is flying toward one point.
Story of the Week
All was hushed and stonily still, like the moon and its lights and shadows.
Fiction
Anytime I drifted off I wished to wake up against a cold, silent body.
Fiction
It’s a mistake to be here, he thinks, but he doesn’t turn around.
Narrative Outloud
Sue Williams tells a pitch-perfect story outloud, about devotion.
Story of the Week
“I’m not afraid of death; I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”
First & Second Looks
Story of the Week
Gramps’ will was a fifty-year diary, all jammed onto two sheets.
First & Second Looks
Poem of the Week
The blackbirds in the rain upon the dead topbranches notate the dawn.
Narrative High School Writing Contest
When I meet his gaze, he’s frowning, a hint of anger flashing in his eyes. When saw the fury in his eyes, I thought he was going to kill him.