Sandbox

I played God when I was little I turned crab apples into cherries and sand into pie crust I drowned ants with a hose and built them tiny...

Penelope

When I get old, and wrinkles carve their claws into the hills of my visage like a thousand deep, rich streams, abundant with the hidden...

Humans of St. Olaf: March 18, 2016

“You know, my wife had to retire last year and I had to continue working. I don’t really mind it because I like working...

XVII. On Construction

From where did all these brick slabs arrive? Was it while I was asleep? Did they seep from some unseen attic and drip down from behind some...

hey, it’s me, open up

He felt like a small bag of Gushers,partly opened, stepped on,goo flowing from the sidesSome got stuck on your soleYou turned the knobAlthough the...