Oxford

Recollection is like a sea of various shades washing on the dull gray sand of daily living. Nostalgia, or the concept of memories flooding one’s mind as they are triggered by trivial things––like cake crumbs, fine china, or even the musky scent of an old love’s cologne––is the sentimental impact of adventure come and gone…

Lost Boy

To the One that’s Lost, I hope life is treating you well. I hope its embrace feels tender, warm, and secure. I wish that its occasionally harsh grasp will not deter you from succeeding in all the ventures you’ve chosen. The ones I’m not allowed in. I do hope, with the purest ounces of my…

Starlight

The darkness does not scare me. My brokenness never will. Because when I look up to the black, I realize shattered glass still glimmers. Heat will rise in passion’s haste to feel what burns within. No matter the shadows I’ve embraced, I will always glow against that dark. That dark that coal cannot burn. That…

Glimmer in the Ash

Those pools of brewed liquid would churn around pupils of the sweetest licorice. They’d shimmer in the most intoxicating moments, like a waft of steam was caught inside them. There was a depth to those eyes, so profound and savoringly bitter, that I had to remind myself to ingest them slowly. But the way they’d…

Remember

I need you. More than I ever have before. Your bright eyes. Your hysterical laugh. Your wild white hair. My hand enclosed in yours. It was all the comfort I ever needed. Do you remember? I used to run across that green lawn like it was the entire world in one place. I’d get scratched…

A Talk With Rain

-February 14th, five years ago, my Great-Grandmother passed away. The following tale is a recollection of a day after she went.-  A tear dribbled down my pale skin as I stared outside the translucent substance, hardly breathing. The smooth glass cooled my touch and I could see my reflected self gazing vigilantly back at me….

Teardrops in the Rain

The bitter wind nipped at my flushed cheeks. I could feel my skin paling from the exposure to the winter air whilst my body trembled at the sight of the varying hues of gray that hung above me. My hair whipped across my face— locks of mahogany silk temporarily blinded me as if the air…

The Balcony People

August 2016- Puerto Vallarta, Mexico The stars have been obscured by clouds and the moon is but a crescent form trying to break through the sky’s shadows. The music begins slowly, thrumming delightfully throughout the palace. The towering white castle glows with a surreal sharpness against the navy-shaded heavens. Balconies line every room in the…

Miracle on a Starry Night

Inspired by one of my favorite paintings by Vincent Van Gogh, A Miracle on a Starry Night is a short-story I’ve written derived from my love of Christmas and the classic holiday film “It’s a Wonderful Life.” I sat atop the hill, gazing at a night of infinite depth. The moon hung half-dressed as a brilliant golden crescent…

Failure’s Toll

“We regret to inform you that your piece will not be accepted for publication.” My eyes saw the remainder of the text but my mind did nothing to configure the combinations of words and punctuations. I slammed my laptop shut and folded my knees to my chest, just sitting their in absolute silence. But it…