Stories
Narrative High School Writing Contest
From the deck, the burnished red peel of an apple beckons temptingly.
Story of the Week
“The rattlesnakes glow in the dark, man. You should see them.”
Story of the Week
He wondered how others lived with their sins. Maybe they never did.
Story of the Week
Having his ex-wife in the house was a distraction. He forgot to grieve.
Fiction
Clayton always imagined getting laid in the rooms of his dad’s motel.
Story of the Week
Was this where he would grow old? Would it all end in a room like this?
Winter Contest Winners
Phuong feared that she was nothing but a regret born into flesh.
Fiction
He will, no doubt, be out of this house soon, headed over to Montgomery.
Poem of the Week
The celebration stops, like a sparrow hitting a sliding-glass door.
Poem of the Week
My daughter cried her tears; I held some ice against her lip.
iPoems
“Feathered Cup” by Shangyang Fang. A complete poem in a single screen.
Poem of the Week
The light, returning, nudged me from sleep, and walked me to dinner.
Poem of the Week
My husband shovels snow from flower beds back onto the drive.
Poem of the Week
What I eat, that heap has eaten. What I like, it gets, but less of.
Story of the Week
If someone looked into his eyes they would see how ugly his mind was.
Poem of the Week
Motionless at the window. Forehead beaded with a line of fevered moons.
Poem of the Week
you crawl into a hole & pull the hole in after you
on judgment day even our mothers will flee from us.
Poem of the Week
There, in the courtyard, a man might sit and call himself your friend.
Poetry
I know about sex. It’s not a cardinal flying into the wrong window.
Poem of the Week
Because I am lonely, I am always shying away from the mirror.
Fiction
She examines her left hand, finger by finger, gripping and pinching the flesh.
Poetry
They’re shrieking down Little Round Top, receiving the good girls’ glares.
Story of the Week
He hit all of us sometimes, but he hit me hardest and the most.
Nonfiction
We serve them far more than they serve us. Service animals, we all are.
Nonfiction
Order gardening clogs, then realize you feel like a runaway nurse.
