Wind, power, speed; we zoom up the mountain to the place that prints the papers, where you can get The Wall Street Journal early. I love the orange motorcycle the way other girls love ponies. At three, I have my own helmet and know to hold on tight, but I must not be holding tight […]
A Literary Magazine
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From The Blog
Pen Names: Are They Really for You?
I was twelve years old when I decided to write. I pretended to tidy up my backpack until every other student in my seventh-grade AVID class rushed out of the door. The room emptied quickly, until Ms. C and I were the only ones left. “You’re gonna be late to your next class,” Ms. C […]