There is a clock. It’s mounted on the wall next to them; Eleanor pays no mind to its insistent ticking, but Alice sees it and hears it,...

The red and blue lights are flickering on your screen again. You looked so beautiful, lying there, your face illuminated like the...

For Addison Fulton's Social Animals. Maybe everything was going to be okay. She thinks everything is going to be okay. ~☽O☾~ Anna calls...

I believe in oranges, In the great spurt of juice that rushes out as I peel its skin, in the viscera that clings to my own. I believe in...

Specks of dust float aimlessly through the room, illuminated by the sun that snakes through each particle, lighting them up like disco...

the forgotten victims of war are not the dismembered parts on fields the limbs strewn on yellow grass twisted, gnarled, crooked pieces...

You don’t even know who you are… I am Pentheus. Son of Echion. Son of Agave… Who are you? I am Dionysus I am the wind blowing gently...

The door ajar, a puzzle laid at the child’s feet. It was made of several geometric shapes- not diamonds or squares, but animals, sneaky,...

night in pakistan is deafening we walk behind lines and lines of men in tiny plastic chairs each with a cigarette in one hand and a...