Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Pride.
His First
When the final bell rang to end seventh period, I already had my notebook and worksheets shoved into my backpack and ready to go, ready to bolt out the door and off campus. I didn’t linger in the parking lot with my friends like usual. I just ran home, unable to think of anything but what was waiting for me there.
By Jasper A. Flintsmith5 years ago in Pride
Two Words
It was a small thing, sitting on the ground so innocently, so perfectly, as though it truly had nothing to hide. For days it had been the same, so delicately wrapped and tied up with a bow. “A gift.” That’s what the little tag beneath the ribbon said in curly, precise handwriting. It was almost funny. Still, the woman sitting criss-crossed in front of it did not look amused.
By Anabelle Grisso 5 years ago in Pride
The Object
On an icy winter night, Franklin was thinking about doing a spot of fishing in his favorite icy lake. Franklin walked with Paul and John, who were in a relationship at the time. Paul and John could be said to be in their honeymoon phase. To stave off the cold they drank peppermint schnapps. Considering himself all the more manly than his friends, Franklin drank beer.
By Luke Lenacio5 years ago in Pride
Can I Identify As a Different Age?
Every few years, the Right chooses a new scapegoat to blame for all of the world’s problems. It prevents them from actually having to do any real work and come up with policies or content that is relevant to their voters and audience. Outrage motivates people like critical thinking never will.
By Amanda Fernandes5 years ago in Pride
Soul Bloom
The ink bloomed on her skin with such vibrancy it could be confused for true blossoms. Even in the soft light of a candle the brilliance was not diminished. Her shallow breathing told me she had slipped into sleep and my heavy eyes warned me that I was not far behind. I fought the pull of drowsiness however, eager to never waste a moment, particularly rare ones such as these. I loved her dearly in the waking hours, she contained more energy than a lake filled with coffee and a laugh that could wake the night. I even loved the sleepy afternoons when she mumbled whatever was rolling through her mind; but the moments of quiet, unfiltered, unedited ‘her’ were something else. Careful to not disturb her, but unable to resist, I traced the tiny garden displayed across her hip; tulip, gladiolus, rose, lavender. Each flower was beautifully hand picked, each represented a unique meaning for her. I traced circles around the marigold with a smile playing at my lips, it was possibly the brightest amongst the garden with its golden splendor. The marigold always made me think of her; vibrant, loud and giving - the perfect home for bees, and for me. Marigolds, like every flower, have a specific meaning and their meaning suited her beyond casual coincidence. It was as if she had bloomed with the first golden flourish before the world realised her splendor and plucked her from the ground. A beautiful curse, petals trapped in bones. A living reflection of warmth and joy. Everything has a shadow however and my personal understanding of the duality of the meaning of marigolds came from knowing her. They are also a symbol of jealousy, grief, and despair; all the colours I would paint myself with if she was ever taken from me. In the shadow of these thoughts an idea formed and I still wore the smile it brought me as I blew out the candle and sleep took me. I swear even in the darkness that flower glowed.
By Obsidian Words5 years ago in Pride
What does LGBTQ+ means?
The past month of June was the, every time more visualized, Pride Month. The Pride Month is an important date for thousands of people, who are learning to accept themselves in an heteronormative world; learning about their differences and growing through them; being proud of who they are.
By Rosy Arreola5 years ago in Pride
A Bisexual Perspective
When I was a kid, I couldn’t even begin to grasp how much things would change when I grew older or how much I would change. Back when I was growing up, I never heard any words in my household associated with the LGBTQIA+ community. I didn’t even know it, or such people, existed. Even so, I knew I was different. I simply didn’t know why. Looking back, it was always staring me in the face, I just didn’t have a name for it. I was bisexual.
By Angelea Sakai5 years ago in Pride
Two Sentences in Apartment 5C
“Are you seriously going to eat that?” Sasha was hunched over the retro-style refrigerator, long enough for the fridge light to go out. Her almond eyes were squeezed firmly shut as beads of sweat rolled from her temples to the bridge of her nose. Even for July, this Arizona heatwave was sickening. Her hand was holding a container of the last remaining item from last night’s takeout disaster: a slice of Double-Dutch Death By Chocolate Cake. They’d ordered in, from the same ridiculous diner where they’d met three years ago. This had become their default anniversary dinner. However, last night they bit off more than they could chew from this expensive hipster establishment built solely to separate the local private university’s enrollees from their parents’ allowances.
By Omotara James5 years ago in Pride
