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The first edition of my very own magazine. I feel honored. I touch the cover, and admire the slick feeling of it. I open it, and take a sniff. It smells wonderful, so magazinelike.

Posted By Manon Eileen On 01.16.2011 @ 4:39 am

I held the iron spike in my hand. This could hurt someone quite badly, so I decided to throw it in a trashcan.

Posted By Manon Eileen On 12.01.2010 @ 6:29 am

The door closed behind me. I felt embarrassed. How could I have told her I love her. I know so well she doesn’t love me. Not in that way, at least.

I wish I could turn back time.

Posted By Manon Eileen On 11.28.2010 @ 4:05 am

The door was closed. I couldn’t open it. However hard I tried, I pulled, pushed, kicked, ran into it. It wouldn’t budge. I had to get out.

“Please, let me out!” I cried.

I knew no one would hear me.

Posted By Manon Eileen On 11.27.2010 @ 12:25 pm