Today I am Samantha, and it is my twenty-first birthday. Well, according to this ID and credit card that’s my life. I go down to Denny’s for a free breakfast. The waiter asks to see my ID because he swears up and down that he saw me in here last week. Last week I was… Continue reading Nine Lives.
My grandma dropped out of school in the second grade. Things were different back then. But one day, when women finally began to gain rights and when my grandmother finally began to gain the courage to unlock the chains that pulled her down from liberation my grandmother decided to take the GED test. I had… Continue reading For Grandma.
My day started with a gun. I didn’t know where it came from, what it was doing on top of my backpack, or why I needed it. But, there was a message etched into its cold, black, side in peeling white-out, maybe from all the sweaty and anxious palms that have caressed it, that said… Continue reading Heavy Metal.
My name is Maxwell Smith, age 40, white male. But call me Max. Whatever you do, do not call me Mad Max or Mental Max like the rest of the world. When you write about me and cite me, call me Max. Just Max. The Warden took this hour for the interview out of my… Continue reading Live Inside the Prison with Mad Max.
I was only able to grab one thing from my apartment before it’s swallowed up by a starving hole in the ground. Of course as soon as my boyfriend and I are on the brink of everything we talked about during college, the world is crashing and burning. I had dreams we would get married,… Continue reading Gorilla War
When I saw the trailer for the Secret Life of Pets, it took me on a train down memory lane. I had started to think about a similar type of story I wrote in fourth grade. I dug through my parents box of our accomplishments and school stuff and I finally found the story i thought… Continue reading Dogs Really Party (Fourth Grade Me)
You don't think about the future until you are forced to live in it. You speed through four years of college, and then your future is standing there at the finish line pinching you to let you know it's real and it's ready for you. My name is Anaya. It is African, and it means… Continue reading Confessions of a Catholic.
This story was written by me when I was in the second grade. I recently re-discovered it on my shelf in my room back here in Arizona. This is the start of my writing journey, the year it became my passion, and twelve years later and it is still what I enjoy the most. Here… Continue reading How the Bat Got its Wings (My First Story)
My interpretation of the short story by Annie Proulx.
“Class, we have a new student joining us from…where are you from again sir?” The teacher asked the boy standing there. He’s tall and skinny with pale skin, eyes so blue and bright they could hurt your eyes, and a bald head. But, even with a bald head he’s gorgeous. He looks so innocent. “Um,… Continue reading Foreign