Creative Writing

March 2019

Maybe we can…

By Julien Tuast

Maybe we can share a coffee in the morning

Maybe we can share a bed tonight

Maybe we can do so much more the smile and look in to each other’s eyes

Maybe we can feel more

Maybe we can do more

Maybe we are forbidden to do so

But maybe just maybe there’s a loop hole

Maybe we can share that coffee after all

Maybe we can share a bed after all

Maybe we can.


By Braiden Allen

            How beautiful this piece of nature’s features were. The grooves carved into its bark were like the swirls in a fingerprint: unique and captivating. Its trunk stood steady, unbending with the wind, unlike its spindly branches that stretched into the sky like veins. They bent and waved, but never broke, unless of course they were snapped. Holes bored into its rough surface in specific places. No one knew how deep they ran, but whatever was whispered into them was always heard. How full of personality this rooted being was.

            And yet a cold settled into the skin when pressed against its bark. Its trunk was fractured and rotted. Its siblings were green, and it was black.


By Braiden Allen

            She had always loved the view from her back porch. Almost everything about it filled her with tranquility. The gentle rustle of the trees filtering the wind through their leaves, the speckles of flowers waving back and forth, the subtle ripple in the dazzling pond—all these sights simmered her anger and sweetened her bitterness. Her only interruption were the creatures that erupted from the treetops and shot into the sky.

            She’d always hated birds. It wasn’t fair that they could simply stretch their wings and climb into the air whenever they got bored or uncomfortable with where they were. When she watched from afar how carelessly they bounced in the blue, and when they came up close and she peered into their beady black eyes, she could tell that they never for a second considered what it was like to be shackled to the earth.

            But today was the first day she didn’t mind the birds. As she sat alone in her rocking chair, soaking in the summer sun, she finally felt her first flicker of affection for the freest creatures in the world.