I Think I Peaked At Age Thirteen
Sometimes I worry that that poem was the peak of my writing career. Miss Brosdal was so impressed with it that she asked me to read it aloud to the class. I was too shy, so I asked her to read it for me. I remember feeling so completely embarrassed, but proud and insightful and intelligent at the same time. I felt like I had actually come to some sort of understanding about the world, and it was amazing.
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Arielle is a college student majoring in journalism and minoring in Spanish. She loves cupcakes, floral-print ... 
The First Time I Shot A Gun
My panic still hadn’t subsided as he showed me how to rest the gun, just so, between my collar bone and armpit (“that’s to stop the kickback”), how to load the bullet (“pull the underside back like this, but don’t catch your skin”), where to aim (“look through this little hole here, the sight’s off a little to the right so try to adjust yourself”), and how to pull the trigger…
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Kate George is the Managing Editor at Portable.tv. Lives like Die Hard but with a Katy Perry vibe. Follow her on ... 
Reasons Why I Cannot Love You
Don’t get me wrong—I think you’re great. I like to eat dinner across from you, quickly glancing down at the fork idly fondling my food when you catch my eye. I like the coy smiles that pass between us, and the way that once we’re both drunk you become brave enough to hold my hand, and I become excited enough to hold it back…
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Kate George is the Managing Editor at Portable.tv. Lives like Die Hard but with a Katy Perry vibe. Follow her on ... 
In Defense Of Country Music
As I write this, I’m listening to Alan Jackson and tapping my feet to the sound of the happy little fiddle that seems to just squeak “Hey, y’all!” in nearly every country song it’s featured in. It’s always been one of my favorite sounds, and is featured prominently in that lovely genre of music that seems to serve as the sonic punching-bag for the modern intellectual…
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Chelsea Fagan is a writer living in Paris. It's less pretentious than it sounds. 
What Ink Feels Like
While he had worked at the lines, I closed my eyes and focused intently on the pain. It crept from around corners and bit me at random. They were really nibbles, though, and the vibrations warmed my neck and face. I cherished the pain. Not as a masochist might, but rather in the way that a mother cherishes the pains that bring her a child.
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Alison has no clue what she's going to "do with a degree in Anthropology," so quit asking. A proud type 3 with a ... 
