Creative Nonfiction

Searching for Snakes in Montana

Wesley Skidmore

I got Jo when I was 23 years old and living in Montana. She was no more than 10 inches and skinny as a twig. Before I adopted her, I wanted to get bitten so that I wouldn't be afraid of my own snake ...  [+]

Short Fiction

Hunt

Helen Kong

Moonlight shone upon the street, lingering around. There was only one person wandering around humming a song.

‘Hey Jude, don't make it bad...' The song was fluttering around the street. ...  [+]

Poetry
Poetry
Short Fiction

Cold Walls and Ugly Chairs

Samuel Houghton

The white wall of Mount Sinai's waiting room was hard and smooth against Henry's head. Its unforgiving coldness infiltrated his bristly hair and trickled along the back of his skull and down his ...  [+]

Creative Nonfiction

1019

Spencer Wilkins

10^19

What is 10^19, really? There's no specific term for this number, the closest would be a quintillion which is 10^18. I can write it out longhand 10,000,000,000,000,000,000, but that does ...  [+]

Creative Nonfiction

Restoration and Technology

Maria Anduray

According to some people, the restored gospel of Jesus Christ has brought as a consequence the quick rise of technology. Initially, this assumption was considered because during the centuries previous ...  [+]

Creative Nonfiction
Poetry

Music

Céline Taylor

Hit me
Kick me
Concuss me
Bludgeon me
Make me feel what I can't
Make me feel what I ...  [+]

Poetry

I Am Me

Abi Barbu

I am from oranges, tart and juicy,
with a smell that long lingers under fingernails.
I am from ...  [+]

Poetry
Poetry
Creative Nonfiction
Short Fiction

Marin of the Sea

Tobin Eckstein

The strength of the ocean lives on inside of me. Tight-laced panels around my waist will never drain the saltwater from my veins, nor will high-heels ever rid me of my sea legs. I refuse to buckle ...  [+]

Creative Nonfiction

Bully

Tobin Eckstein

He doesn't look friendly.

Did he assume I wouldn't respond? Did he think that I would take one look at the narrow bifocals balancing at the tip of his pointed, ruddy nose, or glance down at ...  [+]

Creative Nonfiction

To say goodbye, we walk

Ruth Jeffers

into the garage, no more Buick or Honda, now driving his oldest grandchild and her babies between Wake Forest suburb and student seminary housing. No more museum of decapitated brooms, empty dusty ...  [+]

Poetry
Poetry

ache

Sabina Haque

I stand,
feet positioned shoulder-width apart,
back straight like a Chicago skyscraper. ...  [+]