Xanadu
 

I can smell it—a stench of mold, old paper, and dark humors, wafting down the corridor as it takes slow, shuddering steps towards me. The...

You stand there, hunched over stacks of books and paper, mind whirring. The Vitruvian man is divinely created from your charcoal. Your...

There is an almost religious clarity that occurs when she washes her hair. A comforting sanctity that both literally and figuratively...

I find it in a prickly shrub—leather torn, discolored, and misshapen. Nearby, a patchy soccer field can be seen, the boundaries marked...

Fold unfold fold. The faded paper, losing its color from the constant poking and prodding. Its once bright love filled color now lost....

Your improvisation never seemed to run out of ideas. You placed two chords next to five just to return back to ones. You jumped from...

He always managed to lose it, blaming her even though it had merely slipped from his worn denim pocket and into the unexplored crevices...

Mr. Striker's dull voice and lack of enthusiasm leave me staring at a smart board with words and symbols I do not know. What...

He got home from work at eight, the same age she had just turned last week. They had about an hour before the MET closed and it would...

As it swings in the air—attached to my hook at the end of my line, begging for water—I grasp it. I begin to examine it and stumble upon a...