Runaway

The sliver of moon that hung in the dark sky was the only source of light on that cold evening. It had been raining for hours, and the parking lot was now a collection of puddles. Exhausted after a long day, the woman trudged across the lot to her car. She despised leaving work late, since she was still adjusting to her new life in the city. Preoccupied with thought, she didn’t realize that her new life was already over until she reached her car and found a note tucked under her windshield. “Found you,” it screamed in his handwriting.

From Guest Contributor Kelsey Swancott

Kelsey is a senior majoring in English with a minor in Visual Arts and Spanish while also being involved in the campus literary magazine Angles. She plans on furthering her education by getting her master's degree in English as well.

An Icy Lot

I cautiously got out of my car into the icy lot. A man in a chair was spinning his wheels.

“Do you need any help?” I asked.

“What the hell do I need help for? Everyone thinks the cripple needs help. Damnit, no I don’t need help,” he said.

“I’m sorry, I just thought...”

“That’s your problem. Think too much. What do you know about being crippled?”

“I have schizophrenia,” I said.

“Well, congratulations. We’re both cripples,” he said. He broke a smile and we laughed.

“You don’t feel bad for me anymore do you?”

“Not at all,” I laughed.

From Guest Contributor Steve Colori

Tiny King Seamus

He was the tiny king of the world's smallest microdictatorship.

He referred to it as his island nation though it was really just seven-ninths of a square meter that was cordoned off in the vacant lot next to Baxter Park.

"Sing to me not of your troubled refrains and broken governments. We will not recognize your sovereignty until you recognize ours." He always spouted such nonsense through the broken megaphone he carried with him like a scepter.

When they came to haul him off to the mental ward, they found that he'd appointed a rabid rottweiler as Minister of Defense.