There are three safe topics that I can talk about with my dad – the law, downhill skiing, and jazz. The first two are of interest solely to him, but the last we share.
Jazz is the Root by Angie M. Chatman
Category: Essays
I Have to Tell You Something by Laurie Easter
Standing behind the Green Gables Elementary School library with my best friend, Marnie. “There is something I have to tell you.” … Marnie missed gymnastics the day the team was told.
The Sky’s the Limit by Alice Lowe
He started with T-ball at five—tiny tykes swinging eagerly, determinedly, sometimes tearfully, in a fierce contest with a stationary ball—and stayed with it through the finely honed and competitively groomed “majors,” the top rung of Little League.
Upload Your Personal Essay Below by Amy Yao
COMMON APPLICATION FOR UNDERGRADUATE COLLEGE ADMISSION Please write an essay on a topic of your choice or on one of the options listed below. This personal essay helps us to become acquainted with you as a person and student, apart from courses, grades, test scores, and other objective data. It will also demonstrate your ability…
Our First Reaction by Robin Parks
Sean tries to convince me that I have no idea what I’m getting into, and that as soon as I do, I will leave him. The diabetes that exploded his eyes and killed his kidneys is still ever-present. So I could see his point.
How to Recover from a Hangover in Barcelona by Marla Lepore
Soft, thumping mallets are now sledgehammers, trying to whack their way out of the cheap particleboard of your head. Some unseen battle rages on in your floaty, pickled brain, and another is duking it out in your gut.
Easter Eggs: Spring 1977 by Shaila Kapoor
I was a mishmash of two worlds, a social experiment in a locale where “different” did not come up very often. My dark hair stood out in a sea of blonde.
Roe v. Wade by Lois Bassen
I crossed streets to find a grocery store, all the while imagining myself slipping in front of an oncoming truck. I wiped snow out of my eyes with tears, thinking at least that way my mother would never have to know about the forty days.
Trout by Ray Scanlon
Which was better: fishing with my grandfather or fishing with my grandson? I spent blissful days devoting all my spare neurons to contemplating the question, aided by the occasional mug of Laphroaig.
Bubby by Ali McCart
I am grateful for the distance between my home in Oregon and his delusions in Idaho.
