2nd Place - Poetry
A Hollow Tree
Standing alone in the heart of the forest A woman found a hollow tree A canopy of leaves and...
2nd Place - Fiction
Stacey
The air is heavy with the smell of the storm: earthy, damp, sharp. Strange, thin clouds creep over...
2nd Place - Creative Nonfiction
House of Eyes
Every Sunday until my parents got divorced my Mom, Dad, and I would climb into the car – the...
Finalist - Poetry
The Attack of Culicidae
My question to God flies past the norm Of ‘Are you real?’ or ‘Why do I exist?’ My question to God is one of utmost Importance, and here it lies: Lord, why did you make mosquitos? No not the flies, God. Mosquitos: Culicidae,...
Finalist - Poetry
DreamWorld
I am a daredevil, I have always been a daredevil, when someone tells me not to do something I do the exact opposite. When I was little I was the kid who said “Bloody Mary” 3 times in the bathroom mirror. The one who...
Finalist - Poetry
DreamWorld
I am a daredevil, I have always been a daredevil, when someone tells me not to do something I do the exact opposite. When I was little I was the kid who said “Bloody Mary” 3 times in the bathroom mirror. The one who...
Finalist - Poetry
DreamWorld
I am a daredevil, I have always been a daredevil, when someone tells me not to do something I do the exact opposite. When I was little I was the kid who said “Bloody Mary” 3 times in the bathroom mirror. The one who...
Finalist - Poetry
DreamWorld
I am a daredevil, I have always been a daredevil, when someone tells me not to do something I do the exact opposite. When I was little I was the kid who said “Bloody Mary” 3 times in the bathroom mirror. The one who...
Finalist - Poetry
Slant
Dripped coffee (drip coffee) on the draperies – the stain will remain a reminder of this mistake. Thank God it wasn’t espresso. His anger is stronger than Gunpowder. The drapes were(n’t) new, thrift store treasure...
Finalist - Fiction
Singing Like Gravy
Malachi thought of his father as a mountain – cavernous and comforting – especially when his father echoed those deep church songs like “No Hiding Place Down Here” or “I Shall Not Be Moved.” It was only when his father...
Finalist - Fiction
Going to See a Dog About a Man
Daddy and the man stood by the man’s rusty black pick-up truck at the edge of the driveway. Mama sat in our car while my sister and I sat in the sandy driveway and clung to the spotted dog. Both men looked down at the dog and...
Finalist - Fiction
Holding Water
Her soft sobs, muffled by a handful of handkerchiefs, only amplified the emptiness of the house. Sharpened the cold edges of silence. He needed to be outside to keep his hands and mind busy. He needed to cover her sobs with the...
Finalist - Fiction
DreamWorld
I am a daredevil, I have always been a daredevil, when someone tells me not to do something I do the exact opposite. When I was little I was the kid who said “Bloody Mary” 3 times in the bathroom mirror. The one who...
Finalist - Fiction
The Rabbit
I. I squinted up and out over the Toyota four-runner’s hood as it wound up the snowy roadway. The snow had begun as merely a picturesque stippling on the windshield at the base of the mountain. As we began to climb, however, the...
Finalist - Fiction
Tommy Lee’s Legs
Sunday was the only day that Tommy Lee had legs. Every other day of the week he had a faded red 1979 Cutlass Supreme coupe, that somebody had outfitted with levers attached to the pedals, so he could drive himself around....
Finalist - Creative Nonfiction
Everything is Fine
The sun was shining dry, white hot heat the day my mother and I found ourselves out of money, tired and hungry in an unknown town. This, the second time in less than a month. I don’t remember the name of the town, or what we...
Finalist - Creative Nonfiction
Beside Myself
by Brian Longacre I used to sit beside my mom and watch Golden Girls. I loved being near her when she laughed. She didn’t seem to like laughing because she usually covered her mouth or quickly spoke, saying something like...
Finalist - Creative Nonfiction
Fred’s Place
by Johnny Holloway Some names and dates have been changed to respect privacy. People call Hendersonville “Little Charleston,” and it’s easy to see why. Much like the Vanderbilts, the Sandburgs, the one Kephart – they relish in a...
Finalist - Creative Nonfiction
July 3, 2009
It’s 3 am, and there is a full moon. My headlights shine on a sign that says Pinehill Park as I slowly turn into the retirement community. My parents live just three driveways down on the left. I’ve made this drive many...