author: Loudoun Creative Writing Students
Literary Lantern: A Space For Creative Writers
While most of The Loudoun Lantern pages cover the comings and goings at our campus, reporting on real-life events, we're an imaginative bunch at heart. This month, we're launching our Literary Lantern section, a space for creative writing.
Interested? We've got a short sampling of fabulous fare for you. Continue reading for a short sampling.
Have a story or poem buzzing around? A verse or chapter you want to share with the community? Contact Prof. Nathan Leslie, our creative writing guru, at email@example.com.
A Story by Sean Otwell
They call the place Manama and she's far-and-away the most surreal city I have ever known; a den of sin a few miles east of the most religious nation on the face of the earth, the very birthplace of Islam. As such she exists as a bizarre bustling paradox, the land of sand and neon, of ancients mosques and human bondage. The Las Vegas of the Middle East. How I ended up here I can't really explain as aspects are classified and the rest I'm not sure I understand completely myself. Call it the perfect mix of exotic skill sets and expendability.
I'm driving a borrowed Ferrari-a collection of words that seems incongruent no matter how many times I rework them- and searching for a bar called Sunrise Cowboy. If that name screams gay biker bar to you, your instincts are not far off the money. I imagine this city is the place the Genie goes to blow off steam when Aladdin cuts him loose at the end of the Disney movie. The blue bastard would not look out of place in one of my favorite speak easy dives, sucking down Singapore Slings with a high end Moldovan call girl in his newly acquired lap.continue reading...
A story by Dorothy Angle
Sometimes I wonder if my life is really a sitcom. The kind without the laugh track. Really, I think it's the only explanation for the types of things that happen to me. I've thought about who would play the sitcom version of me. I imagine an updated version of Meg Ryan, but without the lip injections. She would do a much better job of handling the irony and humiliation in the events that seem commonplace in my life and endear a Tom Hanks in the process. I'm sure she, unlike me, would make running into a glass door while texting and walking look adorable instead of deplorable. An old lady wouldn't scold her for not paying attention. A handsome man would rescue her, and they would exchange clever banter and then sit down for coffee and fall in love.
STORY: John Was Gone
A story by Marissa Foix
He was gone. John. Was. Gone. And just like that, my world ended.
I’d seen those TV shows and movies where a woman loses her husband and falls into hysterics, but that didn’t even begin to touch the surface of how I felt. Mine was a sorrow so deep that I didn’t have the energy for anything so animated. This was it, this was the end, and it really felt that total and simple. How did someone even begin to come back from this? John had been my world and now my world had ended.