Andrea stomped across the classroom to her school desk. She threw her book-bag on the floor carelessly, crossing her arms once she took a seat.
The girl let out a low huff as she rested her cheek on her hand, a frown coating her features. Andrea quickly stood up to grab a sheet of paper from her favorite teacher’s desk. Ms. Flores was so kind. She always made sure to leave some there, so the students could draw during recess.
The girl placed the white sheet on top of her battered desk and took out her crayons. Just looking at…
Today was not Robbie’s day.
Their usually tidy apartment looked like a tornado had just passed by. With nothing but black coffee in their system, they typed and typed desperately on their keyboard attempting to finish the article. Robbie doesn’t know why, but the act of articulating their thoughts has been getting harder and harder each passing day. Stories they could finish in a few hours, now took much longer. Their brain has been in a perpetual fog. Robbie mindlessly plays with the coils of their afro, looking defeatedly at the ceiling for some divine inspiration. …
I have an acoustic guitar in my room back home.
The front looks so pleasing to the eye, one might think it’s just for decoration. The wood glistens whenever light enters my room and sometimes if the wind is strong, the strings will strum themselves. Safe to say it adds a certain ambiance.
The back of it, however, I have taken the liberty of massacring with many stickers, but don’t tell my grandmother that she’ll kill me.
I have never been the best at playing it.
My father signed me and my sister up for lessons when we were younger…
Thank you for the feature! Honored to be included here with all these great stories. Would love to contribute to the publication if possible <3
Una escritora algarete🇵🇷🏳️🌈 Poetry & Nonfiction. English literature major at the University of Puerto Rico Río Piedras Campus.