Afternoon sunlight slanted through the window, warming the stainless steel counter and filling the kitchen with the sleepy warmth of a weighted blanket. Returning to work in the ranch kitchen after an afternoon nap felt like sleepwalking in a warm, golden dream—a dream that involved dodging waitstaff, handling hot objects, and wielding sharp knives. “What should I start working

Hair flying in the wind. Trees blurring past me. Breeze blowing in my ears, and I lean in to listen to it, like listening to the heartbeat of a seashell. Saddle rocking as the horse stretches out its long legs for another scoop of soil. Both horse and rider breathe from the same heart. Reality. This time of horse-riding experience

The watchmaker sorrowing as his shop’s aflame hears a moaning child call out his name. Without hesitation, he runs back through the frame, only to find that the child’s to blame. Pride rises up, and anger runs through as the fire surrounding them grows more too. And now with no other purpose but himself, he forgets the boy

If I were God, I would not have cursed the earth. If I were God, I would have dwelt among the        ponds and peaks I made            instead of leaving it all behind. What has the world done; what profanity is         heard in birdsong or bearbellow? Are the ravines roaring with blasphemy? Or have the fig trees chosen to rebel, to

O God of earth and sea and sky, You stay the same all of the time; O Lord upon a timeless throne, You reign supreme; You reign alone: Help me in these shifting times! Master of the earth and sun, You guide the paths that they must run; Father Who gave for me His Son, You have called me to

I’m going to brave it all; I don’t need any help— I have won every brawl. Each test of strength shows my superiority. From the womb to this day I’ve stood victorious. Enemies? What enemies? They don’t stand a chance. This day, like all others, I will claim my prize. Israel has no hope, Even if

Prepared to set the world ablaze, You were a glowing ember, So full of vibrant life until The eleventh of September. I heard the phone at nine a.m. And prayed it wasn’t you. I heard your voice; my heart caved in; Before you spoke, I knew. Your breaths were coming short and fast; I told you to inhale.

How often I write things last minute Until there’s little effort in it, Because I’m so much better Right as I see the turn-in time. I write a less-than-robust rhyme, So my grade drops a letter.

People called him Ace, and it had nothing to do with his hand at cards. Well, they actually called him Dr. Ace if we’re being technical. But it doesn’t really matter what his real name was. Besides, everyone who worked with him had forgotten anyway. Late again, Ace thought. He surveyed the line in front of him with

“Don’t worry my good subjects! I shall return soon and unharmed.” Prince Charmaigne flashed a pearly grin at the swarm of people that scrambled closer to his steed and gave them a grand gesture that resembled a wave. “Don’t miss me too much.” He winked at a petite blonde woman closest to him, and she brought a hand

Mira stepped forward, dry leaves and twigs crunching under her boot on the forest floor. She held her breath to catch every word said by the young man before the scraggly crowd. “Today is the final phase of your trial period,” Ivan Fletcher called out the group assembled in the woods. He rested a hand on his sword hilt where