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"The Hopeless Novel" by Eric Stauffer Pen against the naked, mocking paper, his hand froze. The pen simply wouldn't move. 'Come on, Tom. You can do this. Focus.' Lighting a Marlboro, he stared at the paper in the same manner a boxer stares down his opponent before a fight. The sounds of the diner- soft convorsation, an infant crying, the occasional breaking glass- faded into a dull drone. 'Focus.' The immobile bic ballpoint, refusing to budge, was now angrily pressing an indent into the page,...

"Fast Food" by: Eric Stauffer Twirling a lock of golden blonde hair around her finger, Kelly sighed. "Wanna supersize that?" she asked, the question mechanical. "Uhh... sure." the fat balding man dropped a crumpled ten into her outstretched hand. "Need a number three!" she shouted over her shoulder. Counting his change, she turned her attention back to her customer only to find him blatently staring at her chest. Disgusted, she spilled his change all over the counter, folding her slender arms...

It seems like a distant memory- the blood, the screams, the confusion... I was sitting in the backseat of our old Chevy station wagon, chewing a piece of peppermint gum as I let my parent's convorsation fade into a dull drone. Staring out the backseat window, I was thinking about how I would spend this carefree summer day. A warm June breeze hit my face and I smiled. Life was good. The next thing I remember was being loaded into the back of an ambulance, the metallic taste of my own blood fil...

Gazing out of his fifth floor apartment window, the old man watched a young boy feed pigeons at a small park. It was a typical November morning in Philadelphia, a thin sheet of gray clouds covering all but a few scattered flecks of blue. The milky white light was harsh on the old man's eyes. He took a deep breath, followed by the familiar coughing and gasping, testament to his tarred and diseased lungs. Lighting an unfiltered Pall Mall, he reflected upon his own childhood as he watched the y...