The fire devastated her island. It took weeks for them to find all the dead, to drag themfrom the spots they’d been burnt into, to collect every piece of the ruined bodies and find themall in the thick layers of ash covering the island. They’re lucky, of the many islands and townsravaged by the Blaze they are one of the few that had any survivors. … Continue reading SHORT STORY: Fire

A ghost on a ship scares the birds, A ghost on a ship watches for bergs. A ghost on a ship has no words, A ghost on a ship still loves their work.  A ghost on an island watches the crowds, A ghost on an island wanders around. An invisible rope tethered to the ground, Left alone in their hometown. By Clay Patterson, Contributor Patterson … Continue reading POETRY: Ghost Poem

Want, A cruel mistress of suffering and joy. It’s allure captivates and pulls the mind, An endless cycle of pain and fleeting happiness.  A scale of want and need tipping, How could this unstoppable juggernaut stop? We’ll always to move till our grasp is meaningless, By Clay Patterson, Contributor Patterson writes, “I’ve always had a knack for writing and the short and quick format of … Continue reading POETRY: Want Poem

The apocalypse hit hard. Really hard. One day, people were walking, talking, enjoying their lives, and the very next day they were coughing up blood and vomiting out organs. The virus was an odd one; the equivalent to influenza, Ebola, malaria, and the Black Death if they all formed a team and learned how to fly. It was almost definitely bioterrorism, but whoever created the … Continue reading SHORT STORY: Herman’s Harmonious Flowers and the Secret Survival Sauce

Oh, that feeling, How your presence alters. Your fleeting statures, How I praise your return and dread your absence.  One minute with you feels like a year, But seconds without you feels like an eternity. The fuel of my day, The high of my life.  Oh, how you battle the sadness, Your crusade to tip the scales for me. The veil pulled over reality, Happiness, … Continue reading POETRY: Ode to Happiness

I was in the 5th grade when he called me a whore. What else could we have been playing but Minecraft, back then in its prime, a world of simple blocks and concrete shapes building an escape for some bored children on a hot spring day. He was my older sister’s friend, a striking 6-foot-something, face graced with handsome cheekbones and an angular nose; smile … Continue reading SHORT STORY: In Which Nothing Happens