My names, “Otis Levenson” the Pizza Delivery guy. I’m a senior in high school, and I am an average student, who sometimes slack off. So, to make myself feel more productive I got this job. But unfortunately, it makes me feel even more worthless. Like imagine yourself just driving around …
Here is the journal I kept during my time at The Ash House. At times I was unable to write, so some entries are recorded by memory. At the time of this journal, I had just been dropped off to the Ash House by my old parents. This journal spans …
Each year on December 5th, a person in my hometown is brutally murdered. The police are at a loss. With each victim, a poetic story is left behind. Below are the stories from the past three years. * * * * * * Fredrik loved to smile, for he was …
The trail was too quiet. I knew she was watching me from somewhere either up the steep slope to my right or from the tangle of undergrowth to my left. I would have welcomed the snap of a twig to alert me to her position but she was the apex …
Peter Pan is not what most people think he is… or I guess I should say, would be, but honestly, he’s real. I have not only seen him, but have also… felt him. I met Peter Pan when I was about 11 years old. It had been a hard day …
A spectral woman stood in socks and sandals upon a stone overlooking a gentle brook, red dawn lips reflected in her silvery flute. I had lost something. Something crucial. Why was I here? Her melody, yes. Like warm honey to the ears. My legs ached and my head throbbed. Rest. …
