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Have you ever grieved someone who's still alive?
I recently had a falling out with my high school best friend of 15+ years. To be honest I already felt like I was grieving for someone I hadn’t quite lost yet. The days, weeks, months had gone by with no communication or check ins, I knew something was up. They eventually told me they think we are on different paths in life. I know people can outgrow each other; I understand that completely. I think it’s actually realistic to believe not everyone you went to school with or knew when you were younger is going to be in your life in your 20s, 30s and beyond. Though that thought doesn’t make the healing easier.
By soft statica day ago in Writers
Holly Golightly
Dear Holly, You’re quite the girl, but how would you like it if began calling you Lula Mae? Isn’t that what Fred calls you? It seems only fitting that if you’re to call me Fred instead of Paul (especially creepy now that he’s dead), I should call you Lula Mae. Barnes, is it?
By Harper Lewis4 days ago in Writers
Digital Graveyard Confessions
I used to pour my morning coffee, open my laptop, and genuinely trust the words staring back at me. Now, I sip my brew with a heavy dose of suspicion. I am being haunted. Not by spirits, but by soulless algorithms masquerading as articles written by ChatGPT otherwise referred as journalists that often name me in them for ranking. I am featured rich, poor, an aggresor or a victim depending who has written it.
By Narghiza Ergashova4 days ago in Writers
Once More
When I taught freshman English (composition, 101, 1101) at Augusta Tech, E. B. White’s “Once More to the Lake” was the essay I used as an example of narrative descriptive writing. I love the essay, and I enjoyed teaching it. And then my father died.
By Harper Lewis4 days ago in Writers
The Furry Thief
That damn squirrel stole my sandwich again, leaving only crumbs and a note demanding “get better bread.” I tried reasoning with him, but he brought lawyers, three chipmunks in tiny suits. They won the case. Now I’m legally required to provide lunch, snacks, and emotional support nuts.
By Sara Wilson5 days ago in Writers
To My Beloved Grandson
Grandson: I’m writing this to you now, even though you are so young you’re unable to read or comprehend it, because I feel we are at the edge of a great precipice morally and idealistically and practically. I publish this letter in its entirety in the present, the year 2026, when you are but a scant few months old. A copy will reside with your parents to hold in trust for you, that you may have a physical reminder of me and my thoughts and my love for you even after I’m gone. I recognize it as a quaint old custom, the passing along of an old fashioned letter written on paper, by hand, in a form of script that you may look at and never actually comprehend. To you, when you are finally presented this artifact, it may be as alien a form of communication as I found Sumerian cuneiform, or Egyptian hieroglyphics, or Incan knot language. I’m hoping your mother and father school you a bit in the art of what is known as cursive writing in the here and now, even if the educational system abandons the practice. I believe it is important to be able to write and especially to read cursive, and the most important founding documents of our nation were written in that script. I believe it is vitally necessary to be able to read those primary sources in their original form, rather than rely on an unknown human or machine mind’s translation.
By David Muñoz6 days ago in Writers
