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

Nonfiction
I’m there inside La Fonda at the bar ordering another glass of red wine!
Nonfiction
I received a surprise invitation to a tryout camp at Ebbets Field.
Nonfiction
“Werewolf Seized in Southend!” “Man Who Made Love to Pavements!”
Nonfiction
The clock kept ticking, and the investors bailed out one by one.
Nonfiction
I cared less about the potential payoff than I did about being right.
Nonfiction
That autumn, my first in San Francisco, I ran short of money.
Narrative Taste
To me, the very point of cooking is to wildly praise what’s wild.
Nonfiction
They don’t dance but simply monitor our movements, like bodyguards.
Nonfiction
I can’t see a way out of this. Things will not necessarily get better.
Story of the Week
“I’m sorry,” I wrote, “but I have to go back to the bookstore.” My only plan was to plead for my old job back. To my surprise, it worked. The law was safe; the law was my father. I decided to go to law school.
Narrative High School Writing Contest
Story of the Week
I am not prepared for postwar Freetown. Postwar Sierra Leone.
Story of the Week
The world is where we brace for a joke that’s about to be played on us.
Nonfiction
I was happy I had no one to talk to, to be alone. Happy to be in the hospital.
Nonfiction
Hemorrhages, it was thought, do not appear for no reason.
Nonfiction
Nothing was permanent, no friend I made, no math test I took.
Story of the Week
Kids were just let out of school to spend the summer running in packs.
Nonfiction
The sex in these fantasies was always a product of love.
Story of the Week
Of the sixteen elephants, one—a lady—completely took my heart.
Nonfiction
I think you’re carrying on to get your brothers in trouble.
Story of the Week
He had found my younger brother Brad there on the kitchen floor.
Story of the Week
For the first two months of class, Toby did barely any writing at all.
Story of the Week
The first time we were alone, I knew it before he even told me.
Story of the Week
I thought that proved he blamed me. I thought they all did.
Story of the Week
In time the squirrel who was my friend is my friend no longer.
Story of the Week
It was as if my dead husband was flowing within me now, like blood.
Story of the Week
Ambition and coincidence had led me to the Royal Theatre.
Story of the Week
“I can’t hold it any longer. I have to pee,” I finally confessed to Viola.
Nonfiction
Despite seeing the other knockoffs, I hoped my dress would be perfect.
Story of the Week
Her lips had the scent of the first kiss, and a thirst for justice.