Fiction

Today the salty breeze sweeps through my window from the west. It’s bitter and sharp. The walls of my room are white painted daub. There is a small bed in the corner covered in a beautiful tapestry woven in deep greens, blues, and reds.

I looked like a puppy as I waited for my friend to arrive. Standing by the window, too alert for a Friday morning, trying to listen and watch and check my phone all at the same time.

    Sweya was the daughter of a weaver.

Spoken word poetry is when the author verbally presents their piece. Different emotions, effective pauses and changes in tone can all help bring the poem to life and make it leap around.

There are curves in calculus. Lots of curves. You have to calculate infinity multiple times. It is a bit redundant. Complicated things are often variations of the same thing. I dropped calculus.

His name was Walter.

He had been named after his grandfather. There was the original Walter, and then Walter Junior,
which was him. His first memories: blinding light. The drone of words. A sharp cry- an

No tears for the night, no tears for the night. Is what I whisper into my little sister’s disarray of hair.

Many people ride on trains. They have become so popular that we wrapped metal ropes around the earth to let them roam across it.

What is one thing you really wish people would stop assuming about you? Why is this, and how would you want them to change their viewpoint? 
 

English relies heavily on phonetics and sounds. A few centuries ago people didn't have dictionaries and made up spelling according to the sounds they heard- that is to say very creativly.

I found a piece of myself shopping for bread, smelling the round loaves and deciding which I would like to eat. I remember grocery stores: neat rows of vegetables and cans.

The only sound was the breath of the fan in the corner and the muffled voices of the radio, sounds that whirred and hissed inside your brain until there was nothing left inside it.