I knew it was a lot to ask for, even though my father was rich and even though I was used to lavish vacations and a constant stream of new clothes.
The Amazing Technicolor Horse Dream by Lisa Romeo
Category: Essays
One Day in August by Dan Grote
I’m no Lindbergh, but for 20 minutes or so one picturesque late summer, I, in my own adolescent mind, ruled the skies over Northern Illinois.
Cristina’s World by Debra L. Eder
Ming joined our English conversation course, already in progress, when she first came to New York City. Twenty adult English language learners and me, their U.S. born teacher.
My First Flight by Ted Duke
I was six, going on seven, when my brother, Nelson, came home on leave for Thanksgiving in 1943. World War II was in full swing. He was a Lieutenant Junior Grade in the U. S. Navy and a designated Naval Aviator. … I wanted to be just like him.
Still by Stephanie Andersen
At midnight, I sat, thirteen years old, curled into a ball inside the front door, waiting for the sound of Dad’s car in the driveway.
Beautiful by Jody Kennedy
“You’ll be living here with five other nuns,” said Sister Helena. She opened the apartment door and we entered a dark hallway.
Ineligible by Michael David Todorovich
I sat crying in front of a receptionist in pink scrubs. No. Crying isn’t the right word. Crying is something you do at the end of a sad movie.
Where Houses Once Stood by Carina Sitkus
They’re beautiful; they’re old. Some are abandoned. They all have a story I wish I knew. I’m always tempted to step inside.
Holding the Plank by Craig Reinbold
I grew up wearing Husky-brand jeans. I once cried to my mom that I was the fattest kid in the third grade.
Radical Chic by John Picard
The Georgetown apartment was full of liberals with deep pockets. It was Washington D.C.’s version of “Radical Chic.”
