She couldn’t write in her fevered state, beads of sweat collecting on her forehead like dewdrops on a spring rose, for every time her aching, swollen fingers scrambled across the keyboard, they simply sadjflsaidf akfjlda;sdijf a;sldjf;lskdj fjskld;afudsif sjfkla;sdkfj sdkjf sdf.s dfsdjiao. But in her mind, that meant something – a secret code, a cosmic language. … More asjdlf;asdkjflasidjf;as


During recess, Hannah Miller asked Kiran Patel if he would like to play “Shipwrecked” and pretend they were the only two people stranded together on a desert island.  She stood on a mound of wet grass surrounded by a large pool of dark rainwater, her frizzy brown hair whipping in the wind, olive eyes wide … More Shipwrecked

The Movement

Pari hated parties. She much preferred curling up on the sofa beneath her apple-print afghan with Bartholomew, her black lab, and watching reruns of Arrested Development. Or re-reading the Harry Potter series while sipping chamomile tea. But in truth, that’s what her life had come to: reruns and re-reads. A sweet but stale cycle. It … More The Movement

You Feel Me?

I’m feelin’ this silliness Your willingness to be ridiculous is appealin’, a real plus They gonna be dealin’ with us, Free-wheelin’ from dawn till dust