Fiction

Standing in the parking lot of her apartment, I see my friend. She's looking down, sad, and having just as hard of a time as me. 

I keep my head down. I don't want to leave. But I also do. I know its time. 

Consider the life of a flower for a while. The life of a flower lasts a week. The life of a flower is the interconnection between life and death.

CHAPTER 4.5: The Journal

Hello! Today was my birthday! It. Was. AWESOME!!! 

Music blasted from the tiny speakers of Evan’s red Maserati. Despite the price of his convertible, the speakers really were dreadful, but nothing like that mattered at a time like this.

After a night of snow (always a fitful night for the clouds, I think, tossing and turning, trying to coat the earth evenly with their powdery delights), when our driveways are indistinguishable from the white and more white around them, my neighbo

I didn’t have many friends. But I had them.

We ran as fast as we could through the woods, we knew where we were going, even though we were paying no attention to the direction. 

Stand

I glance back at my human, wagging my tail, trying to encourage her, as she struggles to catch up, “Hey! Slow down!” She calls up to me as I bound ahead,catching sight of the camp site.

Chapter 2

“VIOLET, YOU ANNOYING LITTLE ROACH!” Hoo-boy, she’s angry. “GET YOUR LAZY BUTT DOWN HERE NOW.”

Chapter 1

I feel the slightest brush of her lips against mine and suddenly- 

The sky was crying, the tears made the road slick. Daniel and I look out of our windows watching the clouds dancing with each other—the air heavy in the car. The heat warms our chill bodies. 

Once upon a time, a boy loved a girl.

There's a place, I know, a place where peace lives. There are many, really.