Category Archives: shortstory

Group Projects

“Okay class, it is now time for your end of year projects. Groups of 2 to 4 please”


I look around the room

I ask the first person

That I see

That I am on somewhat good terms with

partners? I ask

She already has a group

She does not invite me to this group

That group is everyone else I would have asked

There is no one left

but me


I beg myself into a group

where people pity me

into a project I have no interest in

I wish I could be on my own

I wish I had someone that I could work with


What is the point

of these stupid projects anyways?

The teacher would have taught it

if it was important

and if it is not important

why am I using my time on it

when I should be studying

when I should be happy

instead of stressing over another deadline

another time commitment


It wouldn’t be bad

if there was a reason for it

besides to fill the time

It wouldn’t be bad

if I had friends in this class

it might even be fun

It wouldn’t be bad

if the subject my group picked

wasn’t so


or if we were going to present it

in a fun way

and not in a way

that would entertain 5 year olds

and bore 5 year olds

at the same time

It is fine

I suppose


It will happen and that will be that

but I hate the uncomfortable feeling

of being at the house of some one

I barely know

working with people

that have taken pity on me

and allowed me to join them

but not really

because the whole time

I won’t really be one of them

I won’t really have a say

They are a group

They stay together

I am merely passing through

and I will not be allowed

to interrupt them






The rain hits the window

it shakes the roof above me

as I look out

on to the street

it is all quiet


A man with an umbrella

walks on the sidewalk underneath me

Each step feels purposeful

but none are quick nor eager

He simply walks in the rain

it is all quiet


In another room

my dog barks as thunder breaks overhead

The door to my sister’s room creaks

She wraps the dog up in a blanket

repeating calming words

it is all quiet


Someone yells at the rain

In my mind’s eye

I can see them

Twirling with arms stretched out

letting go of everything

but I am in my room

it is all quiet







The Bunny

The teacher stood out in the hall, watching as the students walked by. It had rained that day and the screeching of the shoes on the tile floor was almost unbearable. He watched as the students went to lockers, grabbed books, and headed to class. An odd thought struck him as he watched; no one looked happy. He laughed at his bizarre thought and headed into his room. The students all sat quietly in their seats as he entered. “Today’s lesson is on,” he paused as he turned to his students. They all sat still, watching him. The teacher moved three paces to a table against the wall. He looked back to his students and who were the same as before, the same as always. Something was bothering him, what was it? Maybe he was sick. Yes, that was it. It had to be. It was the only explanation for this feeling he was having. Something felt off, wrong, but nothing appeared to be. “Last class of the day.” he muttered to himself. He could get through it, whatever it was. He looked down at the cage sitting on the table, and remembered his previous train of thought. Out of the cage, he lightly pulled a baby bunny rabbit. ┬áHe walked back to the center of the room. Gingerly, he held the tiny creature up for the class to see. his arms then brought the child closer to his chest and it snuggled against him for warmth. A hand scratched the bunny’s ears and made its way down to pet the neck. The man broke the rabbit’s neck in a second, quickly and without warning. He gazed to the class of motionless students.