The Freelancer

Contrast of a Rose

Angel Red, Creative Writer

May 22, 2018

Filed under Fiction

When each rose has sprouted from the earth its quest for beauty rises with it The stems will rise for foundations to be set for what we all came to see materialize The buds will start as the small green pocket And the rich...

Pale Eyes

Angel Red, Poet

May 1, 2018

Filed under Fiction

All Works out in the end My friend said that to me on one summer’s eve The words faded across my screen, her knowledge to lend Ever since then it has remained in my memory, a small piece of me When you are face to fac...

These words

Angel Red

March 22, 2018

Filed under Fiction

These words were written to be yelled They are to be screamed from the bottom of one's lungs And the top of the rooftops Along the 88th floor for the world to hear, these words These words were put on this paper to be shouted...

Fond memories

Angel Red

March 22, 2018

Filed under Fiction

The other day something peculiar happened. The other day I smiled a pure smile derived from elegance and beauty. I was running home and a door opened. A small boy only 4 and his sister younger ran out with glee. Their dad fo...

Advice to my old self

Angel Red, Poet

March 22, 2018

Filed under Fiction

As you watch your breath on the morning gloom do not wish to be drifting alongside it. For the day that you drift freely alongside the mist is the same day you have fallen below the pit. When you smile both to hide your pain...

What shall we call it? Part III

Jane Wantland, Features Editor

May 17, 2017

Filed under Fiction

"Alright," Stella sighed, "I'll join you in this crusade." "Nice!" Tyler smiled but it was shortly diminished when Stella uttered the dreaded word, "But," "But what?" Tyler stopped playing the piano and trumpet duet with...

What shall we call it?: Chapter II

Ryan Smith, Managing Editor

April 26, 2017

Filed under Fiction, Uncategorized

He was a god in his own domain. His black hair ran in different directions in front of his eyes, weary of the profound power coming forth from the lanky 17-year-old and his instrument. Tyler didn't just play the trumpet- no, he...

What shall we call it?

Lucy Adame, Editor-in-Chief

April 3, 2017

Filed under Fiction

Stella Jackson and Tyler Parker had known each other for as long as they could remember. They grew up together making mud pies in the summer and stealing hot chocolate in the winter. Tyler would tease her about her unruly hair,...

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