Engaging and elevating writers in Baltimore, across Maryland, and around the world.
Featured Works
Merivale
Have you ever been to Merivale?
She writes. While
Angelica, (six), fist full of flowers, arranges them in a pattern similar to that of the painted tile of the hearth.
Violet stalks with purple faces for the V and daisies for the W while she sits, cross-legged, in the milk-dish of sunlight coming in through the half-open door.
Champions
My name is Edward Macky. I do not want to die, and that is okay. I am entitled to my feelings.
Child of the Apocolypse
I often wondered who was responsible for the apocalypse. The bad-tempered husband who thought Mom was oblivious to his philandering while away on his weekly sales trips? Or the lonely wife who thought she might find love with a new neighbor who’d rented the Kendall house?
Learning How to Breathe
I set the kettle on the stove without turning on the flame and walked through the dining room towards the front door. I had to get out of there. No more seeking validation from the women in the kitchen.
The Second Sorrow
The first song I ever learned to play and sing properly; after three sessions with my teacher and over a week of determined seclusion in my room: was The Man With A Child In His Eyes by Kate Bush. I practised it every evening, over and over again for hours, until I got it right.