Stories
Story of the Week
You and me is as good as anybody else, and maybe a damn sight better.
Poem of the Week
In the truck’s bed, resting where a dog’s might—the dead deer’s head.
Fiction
You don’t feel anything when they cut you, not at first, just the blood.
Story of the Week
“I can’t hold it any longer. I have to pee,” I finally confessed to Viola.
Nonfiction
I can’t see a way out of this. Things will not necessarily get better.
Poetry
However hard I trudge and search I cannot find the hills I have climbed.
Story of the Week
He studies their mannerisms, looking for clues to the psycho spirit.
Fiction
They caught those few of us left unclaimed by the one emotion, or the other.
Fiction
In exchange for our labor, we would each be given a new set of clothes.
Fiction
I don’t think I was very frightened. I was simply hungry for home.
Story of the Week
It had taken Thursdale seven years to form this fine talent.
Spring Contest Winners
“You think you know me,” the girl spat back, locking eyes with Esiha.
Poetry
Decay enters us through the eyes. As always I lose focus.
Fiction
There’s being young and growing old, being here and being gone.
Fall Contest Winners
The students usually didn’t look up to see who was serving them.
Fiction
Some people you come across you come to love. He was one of them.
Poem of the Week
The flail is raised high, back bent in echo of the boys’ backs.
Poem of the Week
When I saw her, I was witness and weapon both, charging at her.
Story of the Week
Each harbored a sense that a family of three was not a real family.
Poetry
The goose cannot see the North but knows exactly where it lies.
Nonfiction
Despite seeing the other knockoffs, I hoped my dress would be perfect.
iPoems
Draw me a map of your agonies, all the missing rivers you dried.
Classics
The danger with a young contributor is that he may be his own rival.
Fall Contest Winners
More and more whiskey was required to knock out the elephant.
Story of the Week
When he got up in the morning the work was done ready to his hand.
