Nonfiction

Convince yourself you’re going to go.  That’s the first step. You won’t want to at first; you’ll want to stay at home and read; or stay at home and watch television; or do anything, really, that involves staying at home. …

Hanging from the ceiling, I see a pot of old dirt with a big fat plant sitting on top of it. Not rooted however, for this “plant” is just a fake one. Collecting dust in my room and not sunlight. …

They are often called “criminals” or “a threat to society” by mainstream media and politicians. They are misunderstood, looked down upon, and even hated. You’ve seen the word before—immigrant. It is used to describe those who are from unfamiliar places. …

Spirit of Punk      I am young, wild, and reckless. I am an anarchist. God save my family from the terrible little boy named Joe. The youngest and only boy of four and the child my parents wanted the most. My …

It isn’t my backpack. Not if you go by the label. Still though, Samuel’s undersized camouflaged backpack has served me for years. He took care of it well, and of all the used backpacks only his smelled like books. The …

The rain poured just outside my window. It was cold and desolate inside. I push back my chair and stretch my arms above my head. Looking at the clock beside me, I sigh and stand up from my chair. A …

Since you’ve been gone, my dear, I’ve laughed, and I’ve cried; I’ve missed, and I’ve forgotten, I’ve stared at death in the face and dreamed of bliss beneath me. I think of you still. But I’ve since moved on. I’m …

The most obvious thing was the smell. Kind of like that general old-person smell, you know? Like an old perfume made of expired medicines and dead flowers, tinged with just a hint of whiskey breath—not necessarily an unpleasant aroma, but …