Caitlin Kubitz

The thundering hooves of horses awaken the slumbering town of Twin Bellow in the
Tahoma Territory. As the new day unfolded, the air began to sweat, creating a clammy
atmosphere. A posse of five men astraddle wide-eyed horses enter the town.

Wayland Maddock swallowed the frog creeping up his tightening throat. With a quivering, clammy hand, he reached for the glass to his left, leaned his head back, and consumed the bitter-tasting dregs that lingered at the bottom of the cup before slamming it down on the green felt embroidered on the tabletop.

The Old Woman was late.

Sunlight flowed into the room like a river, steady and with authority. It reflected off the stark white sheets that embraced the woman’s frail, petite body, withered with age. She groaned as she hoisted herself out of the deep slumber that took over her the night before. The woman quietly cursed under her breath. How could she have allowed herself to sleep in so carelessly? Quickly as she could, she hobbled to the master bathroom and examined her reflection in the pristi

When I was 9 years old, I nearly drowned.

I had begged my parents to send me to Camp Silverlake. I came across a flyer for the summer camp while at my school’s library. The advertisement consisted of field trips to amusement parks, campfires, kayaking, and several more captivating activities that excited me as a young boy. While my parents were not fond of how far away the camp was from our hometown, they advised me that they would allow it on the condition I brought up my below-average mark in