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

Fiction
The sense of power that flights of temper evoke will betray you.
Narrative High School Writing Contest
Features
Our camera pans along the porch, and we see each praying woman.
Nonfiction
She could not have known how uncannily she resembled me.
Fiction
This is not deception. This is a subtle way of conditioning.
Fiction
It was on a mid-June morning that the stranger first called.
Fiction
A coldness bumped a last kiss upon my cheek, a good-bye kiss sliding across.
Narrative Taste
Chocolate promises a happy ending. I believed in that promise.
Nonfiction
Write simple sentences. Report. Don’t moralize. No pretensions.
Classics
The eyes looked into his own with a meaning, a malign significance.
Fiction
Five dark shapes loped after the car. Dogs—as far as the eye could see.
Story of the Week
They would find certain and awful death in Afghanistan.
Fiction
Here was rot and immemorial night. And death. Death above all.
Narrative Outloud
I am eleven years old and too young to die, but I am dying nonetheless.
Fiction
I am eleven years old and too young to die, but I am dying nonetheless.
Poetry
Outside the tinted windows, the deep jungle falls away into valley.
Story of the Week
How shocking it was to discover these real things were not real.
Classics
All these and security were within. Without was the “Red Death.”
iStories
If, on your deathbed, you want to watch a movie, don’t let me pick.
Nonfiction
Marriage changes passion. Suddenly you’re in bed with
a relative.
Nonfiction
Any society that fails to protect its children is in terminal decline.
Nonfiction
We want to revisit what life was like before technology infected us.
Nonfiction
“He’s a mad dog on a chain. You don’t stick your fingers in his mouth.”
Poetry
Sometimes a you is a lover, but he is not my lover. He is looking at me.
Photography & Art
Merwin discovered and restored eighteen acres of abandoned land.
Readers' Narratives
He handed us sticks of dynamite, rolled in wax paper like taffy.
Story of the Week
Miss Moses smiled, I could take you, buster. Don’t try anything with me.