Works by Session Three in the Afternoon

I remember how it felt. That moment when I knew exactly where I was going. Who I was. And I was going to get there, no matter what.

I pull my bow across the strings of my cello for the final note, looking up from my trembling fingers as the room goes silent before bursting into applause. I satre into the blinding stage lights, waiting for my eyes to adjust. When they do, I instantly spot him sitting in the back of the theater, his eyes wide, gazing right into mine. Looking closer, I notice the tears silently flowing down his cheeks and I know.
Devon Bortz

Love: A Wider View
The word “love” has always been overused in today’s world. It’s almost always “I love those new shoes” or “I love pizza.”

Love, to me, has been more than that. It’s that sense of affection and protectiveness you have for your family and friends. It will be tested in those times that glass shatters but you superglue every shard back together to make it whole again, no matter how much your hands will bleed.

That’s what it is in its true essence. It’s a feeling and bond. It’s what holds humanity together in the toughest of times. It’s what I call love.
Gowri Buddiga

The Poem That Really Didn’t Need a Name
Did you ever get the feeling about the fish?
If you/didn’t it might be
Imperative
That you don’t run from
The men in the blue suits
Pippin Covington

You never leave me
You stay not as a comfort
But as a constant threat to
My sanity
You carry my heart along
With the others you stole
So many girls with raped
Spirits,
So many broken hearts
That will never truly be
Right again
I wonder if you’re the
Monster because you can
Find no love for yourself
You take the love we willingly
And unknowingly give,
Bit it enrages you
And strengthens your instinct
To destroy
I want to scream and
Make you go away
You always come back to taunt me
You never leave me
Samantha DeShazo

Excerpt from "Nothing to Hold On To"
I was sitting on the ground with my back against a tree that seemed to be weeping. Across from me was a black cat with intense yellow eyes that was glaring ominously at a small tye-dye feathered bird, perched on a decrepit branch right above me, it looked as though it would crumble and fall into a pit of nothingness. I looked up at something that wasn’t the sky, it was an unsightly muddy red, and in the middle of it was a monstrous green hole that lsowly sunk a horrifying chill down my body. It gave off a deep dreadful feeling that it was going to devour everything till nothing is left. A sharp gust of wind came through, I felt my skin burning off, the wind blinded me and everything went black.
Julian Edwards

Life is like a video game
You have a certain amount of lives
When you’re out
It’s game over
Devin Fox

EXT. STREET
SPANISH JOHNNY sits on the sidewalk out front of an old bar in Spanish Harlem. He reaches into the pocket of an old read lather jacket for a pack of cigarettes. Empty. He drops the pack on the street, carelessly and lets his head roll back to the wall.

The door clicks open and a girl, JANE, steps out. She holds her bag close beside her and looks to the right and over at him.

JANE: You gonna go wit’ me or you gonna sit there all night?
Rain Johnson

George, the Dog
Once upon a time there was a dog named George who loved kids and loved to play. He ate all the time and rolled around in mud when he didn’t get food, ruining the golden brown fur. George was a golden retriever and he was four years old when it happened. When the man came. The next door neighbor’s had called the police because of George’s owner’s eldest son. He had committed a crime, and was arrested. The police, noticing the innocent dog, took it away from the poor family. They had nothing left.
Vibha Shekhar


Excerpt from “If My Life Was a Lie”
I was sitting on my couch when my parents came in with a worried look on their face. My mother’s face had the look of defeat as a tiny tear drop rolled down her pale cheek. My father stood with a stern look on his face, his jaw line enhanced, his eyes were red and threatening tears. I was bewildered at both of my parent’s appearance. I wanted to run, but I felt trapped, trapped in my own body! My parents approached me slowly, with a look of hurt. My mother mouthed, “forgive me.” That was when I ran. But my father pinned me down.
Sydney Tinker

Sunny: He still felt a surge of hate whenever he thought of his mother, even now, 68 years after he’d killed her.

The snake twined around the legs of the deck chair, and hie picked up his snake-killing brick, trying to heave it at the rattler. As his feeble arms lifted the brick, his heart gave out and the slumped against the grill. Two hours later, when his wife Susan found him, she smiled and closed his eyes.
Cassie Womack