"If you could work whatever job you wanted to, what would you pick?” The question came from Susan’s coworker Jeremy as he reorganized a shelf stacked with chips for the fourth time
I hobbled up the rugged stone path, wishing that Master Magnus hadn’t taken my wand away—again. It hadn’t been a big fire. Just a small one—one that burned down
I’m more than familiar with how the rumor mill works. Good journalism usually stays away from it since it’s a slippery slope of hearsay and unreliable testimonies. I suppose, then, that
The interrogation room was lit with a single light that cast harsh black shadows around the gray room. Emilia Loya leaned back against the cold, hard back of her chair, trying her best
I accepted the risk of winter. I treaded through frostbitten words that numbed my face and burned my ears. I tripped on trust, broke ice three years thick. I dropped below zero, my
Childhood is but a flurry Glitter, winks in sunlight beams, flung onto carpeted floor after PB&J lunches. Bubbles, blown to each other's noses, bounce and burst on summer breezes. Hair, tossed
My hands quiver with a sense of thee Vanishing in the night, A feeling of longing only I know to be right. The swirling winds, they beckon me to Trace the leaves dispersed.
I’ve always known people who struggle with who they are and what they are supposed to do. I’ve known friends and family who let the wind carry them through life because
My shirt claws into the back of my neck and my pants pinch at my waist, folding and creasing the skin. Invisible spiders crawl into my ears and the glasses I always wear