Nonfiction Editor

9-11

“Your mother’s going to hate me now,” he said. I retreated farther into my corner of the porch swing and hugged my knees close to my chest, withholding all the reasons my mother already hated him. She hated him because ...

Cleaning the Mirror

There is a coffee shop in the town where I live which acts as a cultural epicenter. It’s the sort of vortex-y watering-hole-like-place that promises familiar faces, easy laughs, and unsolicited help at crossword clues by people invariably better than ...

Heavy Fruit

I finished my lunch and emptied my tray in the cafeteria. I was no longer just a weak 6th grader, but had moved up in the world to 7th grade and was experimenting with eyeliner, so things were looking up. I walked ...

Film/Addict

Holes There are too many holes. A fist-sized hole in the basement door. Another in the bedroom door. The back window of his car—no window—just a big hole. The glass shards like jagged teeth in the wide, horrible mouth of a ...