by Joyce H. Munro During those years at the Institute he confessed everything to his diary—how he skipped class, protested rules. And things too painful to speak aloud. Like stealing kisses from his fiancée as he drove her home, almost running off the road. Like… Read More
by Will Cordeiro Forty years had elapsed since James Lewis Andersen had been cursed. Forty years in which, each evening, he retreated to the attic in the house he had built himself on the edge of town, and wrote by candlelight standing at a small… Read More
The boy asked for chew. I offered him a pinch. He took three. He was only eleven but those were hard times in a hard country in a bad season.
by Taylor Lea Hicks The Mad King Ludwig, as he was affectionately known to his subjects, preferred absolute isolation when he dined – that is, except for his closest friends: Louis XIV, Marie Antoinette, and, of course, Madame de Pompadour. Or, as he called her,… Read More
by Katrina Carrasco Chicago, 1875. Two minutes to fight time. Tom slaps my face, my upper arms, the thin flesh stretched over the muscles of my sides. Come on, now, he says. Come on, now. His clockwork beating calls out my sweat. Around us is… Read More