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Four times a day,
we help you
get the words out.
Write in any genre in
300 words or less.
Hit publish.
Read. Be Read.
Write. Now.
"You'd really want to want to", is what he first said it to me.  I sat and tried to digest this.  It was a strange way of describing anything.  My hands involuntarily hugged my coffee mug to extract come comfort from the heat.  I had thought that getting here and meeting him was(more)
     "What are you doing here?"
     "I'm not sure."
     "I really want to tell you —"
     "I don't want to know."
I really want to be on time. They really want to tell the world who they are.

The subway is a blisteringly dry cellar, you can only choke. The subway flies are what have gotten me today. The creature-like golum flies who were born flying slowly the way(more)
cut into my heart--not rip it open but plant a small strategic slice--and let all the color drain out. crimson and rust and orange and gold and electric blue, the same things we paint our clubhouse with

scoop up some of the psychedelic puddle and dribble it between(more)
Sid woke up. He scratches his eyes. Half asleep, he takes a look at the bed, and doesn't see Nancy. He sluggishly walks over to the kitchen, and opens the fridge.  He grabs a carton of orange juice, and drinks straight from the carton. He scratches right above his belly(more)
We're meant to be
You see, and
Even though
We're keeping
At arm's distance, I (more)