Category:Creative Nonfiction


Liam Cetti

The wind whips my hair as I saunter along the uneven sidewalk. I brush it back with my hand, and then look up at the church building I’d just escaped. My family sits inside, absorbing the thundering words of the…

Minnie Mouse

Raven Baksh

Goddamn, she is some sort of hot today. What is it? Like, nine thousand degrees out? All these sun burnt people with their sun burnt children don’t seem to be bothered… With their bare chicken legs out and their little…


Jennifer Andrews

She stands on a steel girder, her feet hooked around its ice edge, her hand wrapped tight around a cabled wire, her body, pulsing, pulsing in the wind.


Kelly Abrams

The air was crisp, and winter was finally settling in. The air smelled of snow, though I knew it would never come. Because my friend had been admitted to the hospital the night before, I’d slept at my mother’s side,…

Matilde and the Monster

Fernando Montiel Sanchez

On a warm fall day that smelled of earth and rain, Matilde stood in the middle of the backyard with her husband, Fernando, trying to figure out a game for their children to play—a game that would not frighten them.…

Lines in Her Smile

Eleanor Buckland

There’s a big red photo album tucked away in my parents’ bedroom. On late afternoons, the yard in long shadows, the sunlight shallow, I used to sneak into their room and pore over the photos for hours, getting lost in…

Rock Music in a Little Girl’s Eyes

Jessica Prouty

My childhood was filled with tennis lessons, moon-bounce birthday parties, boating at the yacht club, and Christian Rock Music. Life was balanced by two loving parents, a blonde baby brother, church every Sunday, and one of the highest rated school districts in Massachusetts.

The Life Saved By God

Nicholas Salvador

He was feeling smart and sly. It was 1996 on a cold day in the Orchard Park Projects in Roxbury, Massachusetts, and it wasn’t the first time he got away with selling drugs. He was feeling good to get that easy money, and to get that high. He thought he knew the game. If he got caught, he could find a public defender to get him off. The poison fire of alcohol and drugs was calling him, and the risks meant nothing.

Hometown Memories: Spring 2014

A Collection of Berklee Students

As I reach Woodlands train station, everything and everyone is moving in the speed of lightning. The human traffic moves like a colony of ants, coming from various directions. I soon realized that if I had stopped walking, everyone is going to crash into one another. Access control gates slams inward and outward like huge resounding metals in a factory. They go in sync and people go through them as quickly as they can – afraid the gates might just slam them. I walk without a care in the world. 7am: I am on my way to school.