People say time is a circle or line, but really, it’s a

Ray. It has one point fixed ages ago, and the rest shoots out like a line,

Moving forward and forward for all of eternity. Of course, we’re

Nothing more than a line segment, with a specific

Stop and start within. I know all this, but somedays I

Wish time could be a loop and fall back on itself.

Think about it.

The tear dries from the cracked sidewalk.

The moisture leaves the ground back

Onto my face. The wetness absorbs back into my

Eye. My head lifts. And I walk, slowly, slowly,

Backwards and away.


The voices filter throughout my head:

Please help

Good luck living in a box

I’m sorry for your loss


Teacher’s Pet

Tiger who destroys everything they touch

It’s just a cat

You’ll never make it.

The first pill floats on

My tongue, riding on that sip of water. I swallow.


Great job


I knew you would do it

Thank you

I’m speechless

I know you’ll become an author someday.

The second pill sits in my mouth, leaving a

Chalky texture and taste like sand. I want to

Spit it out but swallow. I need to swallow.


Good luck


And then they’re gone, and I’m alone.


Loving you is like holding a knife, something that’s

Terrifying but necessary. After a while, you forget that this thing can

Kill, but it’s always in the back of your mind, the danger.

Your first owner, seeing your beauty, kept you in a glass case and wanted it that way

Forever. They didn’t see the need for caution;

They didn’t see the potential.

Your second owner didn’t see that same beauty and used you

To cut vegetables and make dinner. You gave her nothing more than

A few cuts on the fingers, and she a duller blade. It was

A healthy relationship. But a knife such as

Yourself can’t stay in a kitchen nor a case. A knife like you

Would always want more, even when you couldn’t see the price.

I never met you third owner, so I don’t know what she did with you. But in her

Hands you showed up everywhere. I couldn’t stand it.

I have yet to own you and probably never will, but I asked her to borrow

You for a moment. With a

Wicked grin, she complied.

You were magnificent.

Gems encased in the hilt, and a vein of gold streaking through

Your core. But you couldn’t deny your nature.

Loving you is like holding a knife.

You were sharp and dangerous, but I didn’t

Care. I didn’t heed the warning signs.

No wonder I got knifed.

Grace Nask will be attending the Philadelphia Writers’ Conference in the fall. She has had or will have work published by Fledgling and Down in the Dirt Literary Magazine. One could learn more about her by visiting her website at and her WattPad (under Grace Nask) and Facebook (as Grace Nask’s Books and Manuscripts) profiles.