“I don’t know how anyone could do this to me,” you declare as you sip my tea. Your split tongue wraps around the lip of the mug and tips it back. With the other tongue, you confirm, “I am the victim.”  The cafe table isn’t conducive for the spikes on your back. You complain to the waitress, who can’t do much, then you decide she’s a bitch once she’s out of earshot. The universe is conspiring against you.  Having been inside of your stomach, I’ve learned to tune you out withou

A boy calls for his cat in the wood behind his family home. The sunlight is just starting to fall beneath the treeline, and he worries the cat will be late for feeding time. He calls and calls until long after the word “Mittens” sounds no more like a word than “higgly piggly.” By the time the North star points at his green eye, the tuxedo cat is still nowhere to be found.  The boy still has hope, for Mittens has never stayed away from home too long. For three days he’s search

To marry a king, a girl would be thrilled, or she should be. Security, wealth, admiration of millions of citizens, a girl would have to...

John was a half hour late, and not surprisingly, he smelled of liquor - nonetheless his preferred coping method of choice, Captain...

"Black metal door handle on brown wooden door" Photo by Wolfgang Rottmann This story was first published in the Open Field Undergraduate...