Narrating Life In First Person

…nice house doesn't come easily. I was a child on a move due to my dad's fluctuations of jobs. I was observing the houses in the city through the window of my dad's car. What I saw through that window was that there can always be someone more capable than you and smarter than you financially who can live in a wealthy building in a lavish manner. Not being able to bring some changes is a static way to look…

By Sushant Thapa

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Unforgiven

…used to think there was something romantic and extraordinary about being able to feel so deeply. Like I somehow possessed a special gift to understand things at a soul level. In fact, it’s a curse. It’s earth shattering, spirit breaking, and so incredibly lonely to always be the one who loves the most. Being the one who…

By Becca Hulen

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Diaries of a Primary Researcher Part 1

…I listen to the word research, it seems to me curiosity about the whole of a specific issue. As I also hear about someone who is a researcher, I realize this body is doing a huge and massive job. Although all of the people have affairs that push them to figure out, they are not conscious about this natural habit of searching and discovering. I may define the word “research” as collecting the…

By Bushra Tughar

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Embracing Isolation Diary Entry

…say one lives in reality long enough you forget. I must admit that I have been in isolation since 1983. Meaning I have had to live within my mind since that date or prior. I embraced living within myself then. So embracing isolation now not having left the house since March has not really been that…

By Clinton Siegle

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A Day without HIM

…was going fine, but I don’t know why I was getting an uneasy feeling since the previous night. I saw a weird dream and for a while, I felt like he was near me, but he was not. What was that… I can’t really tell. I shrugged off that feeling and tried to think about him- his smile, his voice, his words. It helped me for a bit to divert my mind. My thoughts were filled with his. Indeed, it made me feel better, but I couldn’t shake…

By Soare Stapanire

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I Swear

…stood with my friend, Joanne, and my two oldest children in Joanne’s living room in her home in West Orange. My family and hers had spent many happy times here celebrating together. New Year’s Eve. The Fourth of July. Birthdays. Joanne yanked her floral curtains back. The sun streamed through her large bay…

By Kitta MacPherson

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Duck At Rest

…the duck sits in the corner of the tub; more often, it migrates to the bathroom closet to sit on a narrow shelf, borne aloft by some misbegotten fit of organizing and then it gets bumped and lands on the floor, behind the clothes hamper. I push it around with my foot or, if I’m feeling ambitious, with the broom, or maybe I’m scrubbing the floor, trying to be Buddhist-like about doing housework wherein cleaning isn’t just a…

By Adrienne Pilon

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