Genre: Nonfiction

E.H.C.

The figure moved slowly, deliberately, its shrouded head turning towards Josh. Those eyes—sharp and frigid as icepicks—stared at him. The man’s black lips never moved, even as a word pierced him like a yell: “Beware.”

Patricia Smith

“Toubab, ça va? Toubab, ça va?” Small, black bodies crowd around me. Their arms are outstretched, palms face up. I…

Kimberly Hayes

My mom was in bed, tossing and turning, in that half-dreaming, half-awakened state. Reading something hadn’t helped, nor had taking her sleeping pill. She hadn’t expected the bell to ring.

Tyler Baron

Thirty seconds ago, my brain felt like a flambé skillet – the flames enjoying a steady diet of anger and anger about anger and why I feel anger and anger about anger and and and…

Mike Wilson

All that remains of me is an oval from my eyebrows to the middle of my chin. My hands strain to escape a cave of heavy sleeves. Sweat runs down my face.

Garth Upshaw

The cracks and weeds on the outdoor basketball court knocked the ball out of bounds as I dribbled. Steve called time and rested with his elbows on his knees, huffing in great gasps. The rest of the team immediately lit cigarettes and blew streams of smoke into the air.

Tracy Morin

Wings, drumsticks, thighs. You could get parts in a grocery store package, polished clean – the easy version. Whole birds were something else.

Angela Townsend

The court was in session all year. I accepted every verdict. I was wordy and wiry and weird, all books and daisies.

Violet Piper

The second secret is that cereal wasn’t my choice, but it takes up so much space I know it will eventually push everything else out.

Elaina Erola

"One end of the drive was full of the places and people that built me. The other is full of the beginnings, challenges, and ignitions that kept me going. I needed each to sustain the other. I went home, I went home, I went home."