A New Kind of Literary Pulse

The average person uses different methods to escape from their problems. Some run marathons, some play basketball, others listen to music or strum their guitar. Whatever the means, we all try to lose ... [+]

Mr. Hazzard called for us to move to the next set. I was glad he got distracted for a moment before calling us to move because I had to break attention to figure out where that was. I located my ... [+]

“That’s not what I think. You did it on purpose, Peter. You are always like this!” Celia was just able to pull her elbow far enough out of Peter’s rib to give me a coy, expectant glare.
All ... [+]

The shafts of blue moon light remind me.
My grandmother still asks about you.
About us. A story from long ago with no ending chapter, no final page, no definite conclusion. Just words ... [+]

When my best friend and I reminisce on the iconic “Mitchell family vacations,” our annual trip down the shore, the most compelling memory is the car ride there. Along with the sweltering heat and ... [+]

Every now and then, my extended family goes up to our family cabin near Smith Morehouse Canyon. We have a quiet time there, taking in the scenery and spending some good family time together. It’s a ... [+]

I tiptoed out of the car, immediately felt the force of frigid air against my face, heard the gravel crunch beneath my shoes. It was just me, the sound of my shifting footsteps, and a vast, dark ... [+]

The familiar scent of earl gray tea sends me back to my grandma's living room. When I was in elementary school, I'd come over multiple times a week and we'd sit on her off-white couch drinking black ... [+]

I.
After nigiri, he took the black stone. He wins more when he plays black; I felt happy for him.
The game begins at half past nine. Each player has three hours. If they exceed the time limit ... [+]

I didn’t tell anyone that I cried.
After we’d come back from the store, my roommates each reluctantly headed back to their rooms, to the homework they’d left undone. I lingered in the living ... [+]

My bones belong on the East Coast. Or maybe they belong to it. Whatever the case, they certainly seem to think it’s the only proper place to be. Bones can think things like that, I suppose, even ... [+]

I remember when I moved to Utah.
I had gotten in the moving van, stepping off the road of my childhood home for the last time. Now, I hear the hammering thrum of the vehicle drive away, my ... [+]

Youth activities at church always aimed to teach us some new skill. We rarely fantasized about service projects and even the most honorable among us would likely miss a “wonderful opportunity” if ... [+]

We were driving down Highway 37 on our way back from Dawson City, Yukon. We had been on the road for almost three weeks and we were spent. Long days of driving long B.C. roads that carried few people ... [+]

The sky dimmed dauntingly, the depiction dark. A stagnant air was wallowed in.
I observed it out the car window; eerie, or perhaps just foggy. Its hiss was unmissable. It was previously a ... [+]

Though I’m always game to try new foods—strange sea creatures boiled in wine, caviar on crackers, beef carpaccio—there’s a solid list of foods I cannot stand, and this makes me feel like a ... [+]

Homesickness is a funny thing.
In the eyes of the American government, I’m an alien. A legal one—I have a student visa to prove it—but an alien still, as though I arrived in a spaceship, and ... [+]

As a child, I assumed that I had done some extraordinary deed to make it on Santa’s platinum edition nice list, which meant presents not only in December, but a bonus delivery during his off-season ... [+]