G ood morning, it’s nine o’clock. You’re listening to BBC Radio Ulster. The headlines: A soldier has been shot dead in an IRA ambush on the streets of Belfast. Elsewhere in the province, a bomb attack has resulted in significant damage to a telecommunications mast in County Armagh. A man and a woman have been […]
A tough call—Strawberry Lemonade or Wild Cherry? I had heard rumors last semester but until now didn’t believe them. Rachel Roth, who was three inches taller than any boy in the 6th grade, supposedly ordered Norm Chance and Randy Gibson to “go shopping.” There was only one
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I used to be a bird. My mother never hid this fact from me. She told me as soon as I was old enough to understand. At the time, this made complete sense. Children are much more accepting of the impossible. I nodded as she prepared my breakfast, sunlight streaming through the window blinds and
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S he had no fear of the bubbles. They caressed her skin more softly than she guessed as she sank deeper. The cold burned at first, scalding her arms, cheeks, ears, yet she dove farther under the surface and into the frigid water. The current stripped her sweater off her arms as she swam, the
T he truth glistens in its glass jar as I lift it down from its hiding place on the top shelf. My customer eyes it hungrily as I take her smaller jar and remove its lid. The young woman wears her hood low and speaks little–I do not ask her name.
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Inspired by Hernando Tellez’ story Lather and Nothing Else S he came into study hall with a flounce. I was the only tutor on duty that day. Amanda carelessly tossed her bag onto the floor and sat in the chair across from mine. To cover my nervousness, I stacked my notebooks to the side and
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