As I told you in class, I liked your story. I loved how you revealed how the story
ended at the beginning. It really confused me, but it also made me want to read more.
Throughout the entire story, up until the last page or so, I was wondering how he
When I was young -younger- I worried that the world was going to end because of an energy
crisis or a worldwide drought. A third world war fought over water. Greenhouse gases so thick
the world heats up till everything melts into soup. I thought t
The Origin of Bruises
My sister says Im prettier than Claire, the girlfriend Sam forgot to mention, and it fixes
nothing to hate the gap between her teeth where she sticks Viceroys and shoots water, or
the mole on her bicep that grew ripe in Oaxaca sun.
The night Chris dies, we dont talk about death or things that scare me. Were trying to hit
cars beneath your bathroom window with old beer bottles. No words, just dumb grins as
mine fall a foot away from the building. But you throw bottles
16 September 2014
A Patch of Daisies
Sunday was business as usual. I approached my Grandmothers ranch with a handful of
freshly-picked daises, ready to have breakfast then escort her to hear about her
In the early grey hours of every morning, Lilith stands before the flat above the
grocers shop and digs in her long skirts for her keys. Theyre always in her right hand
pocket, but she checks everywhere else first. Every morning she lets herself
Guard the house, Panda, my stepmom says. Shes talking to our three-legged dog.
A car hit him when he was a puppy. Gangrene. Hes some kind of mutant (the least likely
explanation). Each time someone asks how he lost his leg, she changes the story.
Like Oil On Water
Theres a bear outside, Kayla said. She sat on the couch looking out the front window. The
curtains fell around her neck, making her look like she was headless.
Yeah? I flipped to the next page of my textbook and highlighted another passa
Fiction Writing Workshop
14 September 2014
I could feel the wind against my face, the gentle push-pull of the breeze as the storm
approached. Everything was dark. The sky was black and the buildings on Mai
Someone was following me. I could hear the not so subtly hidden sound of their footsteps
stepping through shallow puddles and scuffing along the slick pavement behind me. Whoever it
was kept huffing and puffing. All I could imagine was some hairy