The quiet one stares, at nothing in particular. The loud one sings, with verbosity and goodness, but the timing is unclear, and the fans of love, dance lightly to a devil’s beat. So the quiet one speaks, barely above a whisper, “What is the song?” But it may or may not be there. If it’s […]Read More The Quiet One
So there is no tomorrow after all. Everything just stays the same as if time has ceased to turn. Of course, I will grow old and die, but my depression is a self-fulfilling prophecy. Maybe I have made a mistake. Maybe I am the mistake. Maybe. . . The wind and the trees tell me […]Read More Dispatches from Depression
Dear Diary, I think they took Ahmed away. I haven’t seen him in class all week and I don’t think he’s sick. Yesterday, I watched the TV with Dad where these men in suits talked about ending the ‘terrorist problem’ and now he’s gone. Where did Ahmed go? When is he coming back? Why did […]Read More Diary of Lauren Baskovitch Part 2
Part 1 of at least 3 Dear diary, I have a feeling we are going to be spending a lot more time together so let me introduce myself: I’m Lauren Bakovitch and I’m 12 years old. I live in a small, boring town a little bit outside of New York City. I was given this […]Read More Diary of Lauren Baskovitch Part 1
The words left softly from the end of the stick. There was no honor in losing to the fools anymore. It had to end here. Still, time moved on and nothing changed. When the Ramones played and the crowd started jumping, I fell back into the men’s room and did a line of redemption. Because […]Read More Cretin Heaven
When I saw it, with its red petals and prickly thorns, I reacted most unexpectedly. The truth is, I picked it up by the thorn and smelled the petals that brushed against my half-shaven face. It felt as if God himself were touching my body, and I knew then that things would never be the […]Read More Does the Red Rose sing?