by Victoria Lane

Playing through an mp3 file on my old crappy laptop I got for free from my father, her voice transmits a signal of safety, of living with a stable internet connection, of being whole and happy in a stone cottage high in the mountains, surrounded by pine and earth.  She sounds gorgeous, and I want…

Delilah Abell  Beautiful and talented  All women envy her, all men want her.   But her eyes lock on one thing… power.  An actress by day… arsonist by night.  Manipulation and force are her key to success  She auditions and is accepted, it’s very rare that she is rejected.   If she is rejected, well… they will…

Grapes make the wine of the Von Keller line Bines tangle, duties to church and country cross birthright  Bedight the uniform of gallant might Courante the battlefield, she reaps the souls  She closes herself off from the rest of them Condemn behind masks of falsehood she bares Millionaire’s despairs of a time before A world at war, she calls for my…

These wounds you give me bleed, but I will not cry, my blood will cry for me.  Raven Knight is an artistic person and loves to write stories. She has about twenty-plus stories in the making. She already has two poems published: one in her high schools Literary Magazine and one in her colleges Creepy Campfire Stories…

Balancing two children  In a parking lot of  unfamiliar territory. My cousins’ parents inside an urgent care;  For stomach problems and  A cut head.  Many people passed by, Not giving us a second glance. Maternal overdrive Parked with a station wagon.  I had never wanted to die  For anyone before.  Auburn wasn’t asleep for long  before I ascended out the car  to hold her. Ivory watched PJ Mask on my near dead phone,  I…

We are Stonewood, a place where thinkers, think; and dreamers, dream.  We are Artists, ones that imagine the world in abstract colors; and ones who can change the world for the better.  We are writers, who can make a world of our own; and make our imaginations come to life.  We are crystals, ones that shine like the sun; and ones that are dark…

when i was five whenever it stormed,i would run down the sun-warmed drivewayheels pounding on the concretereverberations echoing in the backs of my legsas i would crouch down by the pothole at the end of the drivewayand watch the water that had gathered there swirling beckoning whisperingin a way i imagined must have been like…

Ode to a Lumberjack I don’t know a lumberjack,but I want one to take me in the woods.Watch them cut down trees to make paperI will carve my stories on.They can build a house,I will maintain a garden for deerand other woodland creatures.Supper will always be warm and readyfor when they return after a hard…

Is it better to always go for gold, To achieve it one in three, Or to always get third place? I know they say that life is not a race, But it always felt like that was something That people who think they are kind say only to your face. What if you risked it all for that gold medallion, But the bronze medal…