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Teen Ink Magazine,
January 2008 :
Fiction Articles
Catharsis
by Kevin K., St. Louis, MO
It’s snowing when I go to see you. The snow flutters in the headlights of your mom’s car. I climb in the back seat, and she pulls the long door shut. We drive, your mom flying down the highway, honking at any car that dares pass her.
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Dreams
by Katryna S., San Pablo, CA
I feel his hand on my shoulder. It is cold, bony, and scrapes against my skin. It doesn’t sting too badly. Pain doesn’t cause discomfort for me - it’s like a Popsicle - strong at first, but after awhile, it melts away.
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Icarus
by Caitlin M., Farwell, MI
My world is a tent. A dirty, gray, worn canvas tent. I saw the outside of it once. It reads “Westley Brothers’ Circus” in cracked and faded paint.
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Lonely Man
by Augusto C., W. Lafayette, IN
Middle age, middle-class guy.
Unfashionable bar, uncomfortable bar stool.
That’s me, sitting there. The guy with thick brown hair, kind of handsome in the right light. Yeah, that one there.
You don’t want to be here, believe me.
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Secrets
by Corinne S., Rye Brook, NY
I will write the secret into a story, and there it will linger. Brooke will sing the secret every time she picks up her guitar, the way k’s break open in her mouth, her heart in her eyes, and Heather will return to Colorado, thinking that she has left it behind ...
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The Merchant’s Girl: A Lament
by Cara E., Alexandria, VA
Now ye behold
The tale of old
That made our elders cry.
The story of
Two faithful loves
That made two heroes die.
The merchant’s girl
Had skin of pearls
And glowing sapphire eyes.
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The Rose He Carried
by Christian J., New York, NY
Her hair was done up last night. This morning it lies strewn about her head in disheveled tufts that I try to run my hand through. The tugging hurts her. I am in a youth hostel three blocks east of the Duomo in Florence.
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