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Articles 2491 - 2520 of 3324
Full-Text Articles in Creative Writing
Oh My Darling, William Griffith
Oh My Darling, William Griffith
Manuscripts
THE HUGE BLACK cigar smelled horrible. The fat man who was smoking it, however,. seemed to enjoy it a great deal. . He chewed on it, putting it first in one corner of his mouth, then in the other. Clem watched him out of the corner of her eye. She was fascinated and disgusted by his appearance. His face was round and red. From it stuck a huge bulbous nose with tiny purple veins and red welts. The eyes were mere moist slits with a thin line of eyebrow above. The lips were large and purple. Once he smiled at …
To Jonathan Swift, Michael Moran
Fenner Street, Patrick J. Mahoney Iii
Fenner Street, Patrick J. Mahoney Iii
Manuscripts
THE BLACK BUICK came to a halt at the foot of Fenner Street The man behind the wheel sat smoking a cigarette until Officer Fogarty passed out of sight down Nelson Avenue hill...
"Sorry, Friend, I Didn't See Ya Standin' There", Chester Perkins
"Sorry, Friend, I Didn't See Ya Standin' There", Chester Perkins
Manuscripts
I SAT IN MY usual corner booth at the Victory Bar, sipping a glass of beer and glancing about at people and things I had seen dozens of times before...
Mignon, Barbara Sims
Mignon, Barbara Sims
Manuscripts
M. JULIEN FLAUBERT plodded homeward on feet that lagged • because their destination held no element of pleasant anticipation or even mild interest for their owner. The feet would bear him across the square, down four blocks to 23 Rue Heidelberg, and up fourteen steps to the flat he had taken in one of the more imposing apartment houses of downtown Paris. Once inside the feet would be caressed and purred over by Mignon, the female cat, and indeed the only female resident of M. Flaubert's flat. There was no Marie or Josette or Emilie to greet her breadwinner with …
Love Is Blind, Marjorie Wuilleumier
Love Is Blind, Marjorie Wuilleumier
Manuscripts
...'But my dear, let me tell you,' this is my last blind date!
Volume 17, Issue 1: Full Issue
The Harvest, Marga Lee Carter
The Harvest, Marga Lee Carter
Manuscripts
There once was a tiny speck of the universe called World.
The Pride Of The Elements, C. Bruce Brooks
The Pride Of The Elements, C. Bruce Brooks
Manuscripts
It had been a cloudy, threatening morning, and at two o'clock the St111 had yet t? make its appearance when I entered a lookout cabin stationed at the highest point on the south rim of the Grand Canyon in Arizona. This was the last stop on my tour of the Southwest, and here, along with about forty other tourists, I was to hear a lecture on the subject of one of Nature's great wonders, the Grand Canyon of the mighty Colorado River.
Fugitive From A Ballot Box, Richard Miller
Fugitive From A Ballot Box, Richard Miller
Manuscripts
Politics is full of grit and gravel." This sentence sums up Thoreau's deprecatory view of politics. One must, when considering Thoreau's thoughts on politics, realize that to him politics was not the party machinery and contests between factions which are the popular connotations word, but a broad, general term which embraced government and social interaction of the individual...
Nuts And Raisins, Eleanor Felts
Modern Frontiers, J. E. Stromberg
Modern Frontiers, J. E. Stromberg
Manuscripts
The most common grievance of our generation is that of the lack of frontiers. Our forefathers had unknown lands to develop, unknown oceans to cross, and unknown lands to civilize. Our complaint is that everything worth doing has already been done. With few exceptions, the whole world has been explored and settled and more or less civilized; our oceans have been charted; our industries have been highly developed. Where do we go now?
Traveling In A Strange Country, Roseline Intrater
Traveling In A Strange Country, Roseline Intrater
Manuscripts
Which is the road to Quebec?" I inquired. The children looked at each other and giggled. "Nous ne parlons pas anglais" they chorused. I tried again. "Quel est le chemin a Quebec" I offered hopefully. The answer was nothing my high school French teacher had prepared me to understand. For the first time I had an inkling of how it feels to be a foreigner in a strange country and hopelessly lost besides...
The Rise And Fall Of Herbert Oswald Smith, Tom Pease
The Rise And Fall Of Herbert Oswald Smith, Tom Pease
Manuscripts
Herbert Oswald Smith was a very singular man, and he decided that the world was not a fit place in which to live..
Smile Good-Bye, Johanna Jones
Smile Good-Bye, Johanna Jones
Manuscripts
The house was really a studio. Books filled the shelves and lay around on the tables. Here and there were objects in the process of construction--chairs being caned, dresses being stitched, lectures being composed...
The Fallacy Of Extreme Pacifism, Robert E. Malsberry
The Fallacy Of Extreme Pacifism, Robert E. Malsberry
Manuscripts
(The Editor Invites Contributions Concerning This Subject From A Different Point Of View)
Reality: Each Day I Escape It, Chester Perkins
Reality: Each Day I Escape It, Chester Perkins
Manuscripts
I was dreaming. But the realness of my dream with frighteningly vivid and at the same time morbid, and as it progressed it took on nightmarish proportions...
Father's Day In Hollywood, Mary Jane White
Father's Day In Hollywood, Mary Jane White
Manuscripts
It is Father's Day in Hollywood, especially in the gorgeous Beverly Hills home of the glamorous actress, Roberta Duprez Conley Enfield Morgan Stienfeld Stable Golightly Montjoy, the former Mamie Snitch.
Cabbage Stew, William Griffith
Cabbage Stew, William Griffith
Manuscripts
I pulled my left arm from beneath the warm pile of blankets and coverlets. With small forefinger I touched the crystalline sheet of ice that covered the small window above my bed. The contact was strange: along my arm the minute, pale hairs rose with the goose pimples; a queer trembling passed through my body; my small bed trembled; and the hairs on my head seemed to want to pull from their roots. I quickly put my arm back under the comforting warmth of the blankets and pressed my nose into the pillow...
Two Poems, Frances King
Two Poems, Frances King
Manuscripts
Poems include: The Conversation and For a Small Child.
No Cause For Alarm, Mrs. Temple, Barbara Sims
No Cause For Alarm, Mrs. Temple, Barbara Sims
Manuscripts
...Some clays later, kind Providence saw fit to afflict me with tonsilitis, and by the time I had recovered, the reverberations of the incident had endled and so had my mother's quest for culture.
The City, Roger Chittick
The City, Roger Chittick
Manuscripts
Slowly, inevitably, as out of a moving mist, he could begin to distinguish form. They blurred and retreated, then advanced again, gradually becoming more distinct. He was experiencing things as a man just reviving from unconsciousness after a hard blow on the head, or as a man who has drunk too much might slowly and with effort attempt to establish once again a mental contact with the world of time and space. The again, perhaps this was not it at all; perhaps this slow revelation was really taking years; perhaps he was passing through the first years of life and …
Introduction To Death, Joan Owen
Introduction To Death, Joan Owen
Manuscripts
Death meets each of us some time. But perhaps, the most vivid memory of death springs from the first introduction. I shall never forget the little duck named Ivory, who acquainted me with death.
Two Poems, William Griffith
Night Guard At A Mausoleum, Stanley Levine
The Linguistic Adventures Of Leo And Neo, Kenneth Hopkins
The Linguistic Adventures Of Leo And Neo, Kenneth Hopkins
Manuscripts
The problems forced upon civilization by the development of languages are numerous, baffling, and elusive of solution. These problems, furthermore, have never been comprehensively catalogued, and thus have escaped detection by the masses who labor on, under the resulting handicaps, oblivious of the fact that their every action is molded, inhibited, guided and otherwise affected by language...
Death, Or Return Me, Jack Harris Monninger
The Reparation, Patty Lewis
The Reparation, Patty Lewis
Manuscripts
The principle stopped checking the list and looked at his secretary. "Miss Adams, he asked, "isn't Ann Lupesko the girl with the thick, steel-rimmed glasses?"...
Poems, Frances King
Poems, Frances King
Manuscripts
Poems include: The Designer, That Year, and The Penitent