Category: Fiction

He sat, slumped, on the flimsy cot of his cell. Surrounded by cold concrete walls, he was a prisoner of the government

I still remember when I first saw the wolves.

I pondered my choices as I laid on the moldy cot in my decrepit apartment. My fingers ached. I was out of sleeping pills. Again

Last year, I received an email from Marieclaire Apuli, a Language Arts teacher at Emerson Middle School, serving students from Park Ridge and Niles,…