I remember when I first read a Maya Angelou poem. I was literally awestruck. I was in high school and we were studying poetry in English class. We studied Norman MacCaig, William Shakespeare, Emily Dickinson and few others. Maya Angelou wasn’t one of them, actually. I was on the Internet one day after school and was looking poetry up on the web, when I stumbled across one of hers. A few years later, I saw her on the TV an...

An intruder alert comes over the intercom, and the other students hide under their desks. She was talking to the teacher and his sort-of teacher's aid, so she's now heading under her desk. The door slams open and a man with a gun walks in before the teacher has time to lock the door or even react fast enough. The shooter is familiar to her, but she has no time to register anything- the gun is pointed at her teacher and sh...

"She was a bitch," Jack said. I gave him a look that said that I heartily agree, even though I probably wouldn't use that word because I still have an innate respect for school teachers. "I hated how she played favorites," I said carefully. "It made me feel horrible that I always had to sit in the back of the class, and all her favorites got to sit in the front row. She made me feel so dumb. She had me put in special-ed a...

This is a story I wrote for my eight year old grandson, Simon. He asked me to write him a mystery. The setting is in the nineteenth century and I put in some school history of that period. Simon straightened from his slump and waved his hand frantically in the air, thinking, “I know, I know, call me!” Finally the teacher had asked a question that he thought he knew the answer to. “Alright, Simon, what's the answer?” “Thir...

**This portion of damaged contains sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.** Miki sat in her kitchen staring at the phone. She wanted to call Alan’s house, but had no idea what to say if he answered. Actually, at the moment, it wasn’t even Alan that she wanted to talk with. Sophia had gotten her so worked up in a blind rage that she stormed out of the house, leaving Dean alone with that bitch. She held her breath, t...

**This portion of Damaged contains depictions of sex and coarse language. Reader discretion is advised.** 12 years ago... Sophia MacKinnon stood in front of the mirrors as her mother primped and adjusted her dress and veil. It had taken six months of choking down celery and brown rice and putting herself through boot camp three days a week, but it all paid off as she zipped into that goddamn funnel of a wedding dress - th...

**This portion of Damaged contains depictions of sex and violence. Reader discretion is advised.** Miki surprised herself again by actually attending classes the Monday morning. On Saturday night, as she lay under the covers in bed, she had thought for sure she would still likely be hiding at home for a few days. Maybe it was the exhausting run she did, or maybe it was the delicious Italian food she had later on for dinne...

When Saturday came by, the school kids and their families joined the faculty in the schoolyard for the annual picnic. It was a beautiful day, with nothing but blue skies and sunshine above them. “Thanks so much for fixing the shower,” Miki said as she and Alan set up the tables on the back field of Drummond Elementary. “Feels nice to stand up when getting clean.” Alan bobbed his head and propped up another table as Miki d...

This story contains scenes of graphic sex and violence that some may find offensive and/or disturbing. Reader discretion is advised. All characters, events, and locations are purely fictitious. On an early weekend morning, with a dull, grey haze in the air and before the rest of the quiet street had awoken, Alan Rosetti packed his tools into the back of his white pick-up truck, while Dean watched from the lawn. “Sure you...

MITZI When I was in the fifth grade in 1948, I brought a pack of kits to school. You remember kits, they came five in a packet, with vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate flavors, and a pack in 1948 cost 1 cent. I gave one strawberry kit to Mitzi. Mitzi was a cute little blond headed girl, slim with beautiful teeth, and pretty legs. Mitzi and I both sat on the front row, Mitzi, because she wanted to, and I because the teache...

My Dog Ate It The excuses they are so varied, Why one’s homework is never done. On Mondays it’s easy to say: “On the weekend - we took a vacation.” Teacher said you had enough time “But my puppy had run away. We looked for him into the night.My homework I had to delay.” “It’s not that I hate all the homework. There’s so much, I can’t get it all done. Just too much going on in my day.And homework’s never much fun.” "Now I...

PrologueMy body shook with silent laughter as he ran his fingers down my back. He flipped me over and stared down at me adoringly.“God, you’re beautiful.” His voice was husky and smelt of cloves. He must have taken up smoking again. I didn’t answer him with words, though my lips said it all.He pulled away a little breathless and asked, “What time…what time are your parents expecting you home?” I smiled. “Not till six. We...