Hannah

I woke up with constipation, a hankering for canned tuna, and a good Rebbeca Black song in my head I want to start a short story like that.

Hey, Raven! First of all, even if you're intent on practicing classical styles, be aware that there's much more out there than what was taught in your English class. I ...

I was strong once. I took books home from the library by Louisa May Alcott that told stories of helpful brownies doing the dishes or washing the toilet for the ...

my mother believes enough in pot to call it medicine, but did not have the courage to suggest that her own mother try it when she was wasting away from ...

confessions i do not want to hear hallways make echos long and thin like they haven't eaten or been drunken in days. you are beneath the arch of the prism's ...

spilling i mark time on a ruler and i won't last seven meters i won't last i am marking centimeters, millimeters, nanometers. but they are gone more quickly than i ...

the hunted brown-backed doe lost her white to the winter and rose from the mud from her knees to her feet just in time for the end of the world ...

why don't they start like this? what is a ski slope in summer? sounds like the set up to a neat joke, but why don't they start: have you ever ...

goodbye. euphony is the wind through my bathroom as it chills the tiles in the morning. i am gooseflesh and nothing until the gush from the pips that means later ...

midnight with the camera in my bathroom and the night light opening worlds in my mirror. a bluff in the ceramic near where toothpaste foam falls from my lips and ...

a long ____ down. i will fall and i will keep my wits about me so i can masquerade -- but not that; it's too lavish... i will fall and ...

she bottles breast milk and keeps it in the back of the freezer until it's not clear if it's milky or cracked-through ice, and still she will not call her ...

damage: shattered and dispersed, dipped in the afternoon that shines through the window, drips through through the shutters and onto the wooden floor. dad's left me in pieces.

Did you want this thread, Pingu?

little by little we let our bodies collide more and more and some day soon i will stop caring what they think.