On the 7th of September, the Deluge

Note: This is a fictional piece.  She didn’t know when they left. When the words, a slew of them, went fluttering up, back into the mackerel sky. Everything was still the same, she thought: the suitcase smelling of mold, cinnamon, and cologne, filled with books, and Mother still calling on Tuesdays from her rocking chair. But … Continue reading →

Small.

To clear up some confusion, this is a creative writing piece I wrote for a class last semester. A regular essay takes a subject, states the central point, and supports it with two to three points of evidence. A lyric essay takes a subject and dances around the central point, never fully stating what the … Continue reading →

regular oatmeal.

My writing professor told us once that all art, including writing, is merely a vehicle in which one tries to get a message across. She also said that if any writer looks back upon his or her writing over a great span of time (whether you be a poet, an author, a journaler in the … Continue reading →

tribes.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the Israelites lately. About what it would have been like to travel with a tribe of people more “numerous than the stars in the sky” and live my daily life as a nomad amidst thousands of people in a tightly knit community. So much so that, last night, I dreamt about a … Continue reading →

the fire escape on the old schoolbuilding.

This was written for my ENG2205 class. I sit towards the left, backhand corner of the large classroom at the end of the hall, generally. The room is blue and white, flaking with age, Victorian colors. In the afternoon, I scratch a tree in the faux wood desk, Do you know you are not real … Continue reading →