Standing behind the Green Gables Elementary School library with my best friend, Marnie. “There is something I have to tell you.” … Marnie missed gymnastics the day the team was told.
I Have to Tell You Something by Laurie Easter
Category: Creative Nonfiction
The Sky’s the Limit by Alice Lowe
He started with T-ball at five—tiny tykes swinging eagerly, determinedly, sometimes tearfully, in a fierce contest with a stationary ball—and stayed with it through the finely honed and competitively groomed “majors,” the top rung of Little League.
The Physicist by Shiv Dutta
As a teenager growing up in a small town in northern India, I was enthralled by the romantic visions of the accomplishments of Einstein, Bohr, Heisenberg, Planck, and the host of physicists who had changed our understanding of the physical universe and its inner workings.
Upload Your Personal Essay Below by Amy Yao
COMMON APPLICATION FOR UNDERGRADUATE COLLEGE ADMISSION Please write an essay on a topic of your choice or on one of the options listed below. This personal essay helps us to become acquainted with you as a person and student, apart from courses, grades, test scores, and other objective data. It will also demonstrate your ability…
Our First Reaction by Robin Parks
Sean tries to convince me that I have no idea what I’m getting into, and that as soon as I do, I will leave him. The diabetes that exploded his eyes and killed his kidneys is still ever-present. So I could see his point.
How to Recover from a Hangover in Barcelona by Marla Lepore
Soft, thumping mallets are now sledgehammers, trying to whack their way out of the cheap particleboard of your head. Some unseen battle rages on in your floaty, pickled brain, and another is duking it out in your gut.
Confessions of a Nervous Child by Robert Weinberger
I am certain that my photo will end up on the front page of the New York Daily News … with the tabloid headline, Sixth Grader, Slain. And underneath, a smaller headline, Body Found in Dryer.
First Crossing: Nogales, 1971 by Robert Richter
I was looking to get lost in a new and different land, abandoning my own country’s chaos, and Redmond was a poet out to record the roadside scenes of American sorrow in the Seventies.
October 20 by Margaret Ozmet
Why are they whispering? Wait, why is he looking at me? They’re both looking at me. I didn’t do anything. I totally didn’t do anything. Stop looking at me.
Easter Eggs: Spring 1977 by Shaila Kapoor
I was a mishmash of two worlds, a social experiment in a locale where “different” did not come up very often. My dark hair stood out in a sea of blonde.
