Fiction

Cowley Student (Vol. 8: 2019)

A common Loon yodeled in the distance as the man sat on the bench to catch his breath. The fog rolling in as the sun crept closer to the horizon felt ominous.

Cowley Student (Vol. 8: 2019)

I did it!” she screamed, her blonde curls bouncing in the air as she jumped up. “I finally figured it out!” Janice didn’t say anything. She’d “figured it out” twelve times, and each time it hadn’t worked.

Cowley Alumni (Vol. 8: 2019)

Conner sat up in bed, wondering what time it was. There was light beginning to brighten the curtains on the windows, so dawn was here.

Cowley Student (Vol. 8: 2019)

I couldn’t help but rush to the apartment, I even debated whether or not to take the stairs. But I’d rather  not be sweaty for our reunion, so I settled for impatient foot tapping in the elevator to try and release some of my energy.

Cowley Student (Vol. 8: 2019)

The train whistle breaks the silence.  The road is lined with fluorescent signs and street lights, but no cars in sight. The school  is dark, and its playground equipment casts dreadful shadows across the turf.

Cowley Alumni (Vol. 8: 2019)

Mr. Harvey admired his 6’2”, 190-pound frame in the three full-length mirrors of The Gentry Shop. The high-class men’s store catered to the wealthy, powerful men who frequented their establishment.

Cowley Staff (Vol. 8: 2019)

 

I prayed.

I prayed every day in Siberia.  For seven years, six months, and five days I prayed with fervor.  Time was painful.  Not an hour or even a second escaped me. 

A Fall 2018 Contest Winner: Cowley Student

January 13th, 19XX

Finally moved in and unpacked. Took long enough; finding this journal in all the boxes was a nightmare.

A Fall 2018 Contest Winner: Cowley Student

Axton was the best detective that New York had to offer until the zombie apocalypse started roughly a year ago.

A Fall 2018 Contest Winner: Cowley Student

I woke up from the blinding sun flashing in between shadow’s passing my window, thinking "what the …”

Cowley Alumni (Vol. 8: 2019)

Are you sure you want to do this?” asked Sarah Littleton, in her 16-year-old voice, and a furrowed brow.

“I’m sure. I’ve thought about it a long time and it’s time.” Lewis Lattimore replied, trying to assure Sarah with his own voice in the last stages of changing.

Cowley Alumni (Vol. 8: 2019)

She knew I was lying the minute I saw her eyebrows raise while eating her banana. Two pools of green emeralds that saw everything I did from morning to night whenever we were together, never missed a thing. I tried to hold my pose of innocence, leaning on the kitchen counter, my back to the microwave.

A 2017 October Contest Winner: Cowley Student

I was up until four this morning. One caffeinated heartbeat away from cardiac arrest. The sweet relief of submitting my paper. But my English professor emailed saying to rewrite it. Again. 

A 2017 October Contest Winner: Cowley Student

Turn around, God damn it! Can’t you tell that isn’t me?! Pounding on the glass does no good, for some reason he can’t hear me.

A 2017 October Contest Winner: Cowley Student

She ran fast, trying to outrun the “thing”. She stumbled over a tree root and sprawled over the dirt. A scaly hand clamped over her mouth.