Nonfiction

Covid is about to start. Don't worry, this isn't the end of the world. You just have to get through the next two years.

Also: You need glasses. Please get them and don't wait four  more years. 

oh you sweet child,

you aren't ready. you never will be ready, but the world will force you to take it anyways. this world has no mercy, no love. it does not care.

Her legs lay limp against a log

Her face, bright red

Heart pounding

Lungs struggling to slow down

Never has she been able to go so far

Never has she been able to push herself without criticism

She kneels down on the track

Feeling the rough concrete on her knees

Sweat trickling down her face like a waterfall

Encouraging eruption noises from strangers she doesn't know

Her head turns ever so slightly

Dear Hope,

"When we think of crossing the river to each other, you from the gorge of the landslide, to me at the crest of the typhoon, it is then we will find ourselves in a dead imaginary." -- Cindy Juyoung Ok

I think bias is ingrained in humans. No one can escape it. Personally, I have to deal with bias all the time. Between being disabled, being goth, and being queer, a lot of people make assumptions about me.

I was in health class, and we were doing a group activity. In my group, there was a girl who had been teasing me the day before. I was weary of her, but decided to give her a second chance. I almost wish I hadn't.

I live on Garey Road in Thetford, Vermont. It's a dirt road, and it has a dead end, which isn't too common around here. The road has another road coming off of it called Apple Tree Road, which is also dirt, and also a dead end.

     With the final touch of trimming their Christmas tree, my parents had finished setting up and decorating for Christmas at last.

In the heart of Addison County, Vermont, lies Lincoln, a postcard town rich with history. 

North Thetford, a cozy little neighborhood nestled in the heart of Vermont, is a hidden gem waiting to be discovered.

Author’s note: This is a revised version of my 2020 posting “a sap drips life” to reflect my improved grammatical and linguistic skills, changes to the maple sugaring process, and my improved unders