Written by Joshua Nacy I had always thought Augustwas the beginning of fall,bringing the crisp morningsand soft gusts of windthat rustled changing leaves,that played with your hair now. I used to cherish my Septembers,sipped and tasted slowly,Earl Gray with hints of sugar and cream,for the weather had alreadydropped a few

Written by Aletheia Fitch The Castle             He barred the windows and double checked the tripwire. Still it came in, undetected, through the roof. It slipped through the shingles, crawling with what could have been a million legs if it weren’t so grotesquely large.             The castle was many-storied, with

A Note from the Editor: While eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the commuter lounge the other day I heard a fellow commuter admit, “This watch doesn’t actually work anymore. I’m merely wearing it for aesthetic effect.” How interesting, I thought. That even in the world of Apple

Have you ever thought to yourself, “Gee, I wish Buttercup from The Princess Bride had more autonomy and also a taser”? That’s how this book was pitched to me. (Well, almost. The taser part is my own flavoring. You’re welcome.) “That sounds amazing!” I said to my sister-in-law and her

They call me a bookworm— a wriggling green insect  with glasses that slide down its noseless face, eating away  at every page it inches over,  hiding between the covers to avoid the outside world.  This picture is only partly true I am no lonely worm,  naive and secluded, but a

Writers have an adept ability to converse, but at times the consequence is a curse. Like bouncing balls inside my head are words and phrases I leave unsaid. Like a fly buzzing around my ear is a story asking to be made clear. Like a fog covering my whole being

Written by Erin Cummings Oh, how the sun of inspiration shines! Rays fall upon the artist in delight. They dance and sing and lift the mortal’s mind. What shame! The clouds have come to cast their blight. Such patient bullies– gray, mundane, and slow, They throw a net of shadow

I say: Don’t go. Wait until I’m gone I know the lake on which you’ll row Still waiting for the dawn We haven’t got much time So I’ll keep my words a few Darling—read these rhymes Remember I love you. You say: Truth is we all are selfish beings Riding

Written by Mateo Garzon The needle dragged against the spinning wheel We sat at the table and delt the cards You spilt some of your wine on my table 4We locked our eyes, and there it was Certainly uncertain, knowing only what we know But fairly certain on the uncertain

By Isaac Stiles In a faraway land, in a cave of the earth, Dwelt a dragon most foul, a devourer of men. It brought many to death e’en while promising mirth, For the dragon would lie to bring prey to its den. I was one who did hear it while