Begin to fixate on one question: what is the best method of attracting a mate? Try to do what the books say: love yourself.
There is no elixir of life—no poultice or potion—that can compare to the rejuvenation of your love.
The smoke doesn’t choke me anymore. I took the hell you made for me and made it home...
It likely served an important role in human evolution. And, there is evidence that certain animals may daydream.
Neill McKee’s memoir, Guns and Gods in My Genes, could be described as a personalized history of North America.
Congratulations to the winners of the 2021 Dreamers Stories of Migration, Sense of Place and Home Contest. This contest honours the term “Dreamers”...
I see the faces of the ones who do not complain. I stand, godlike, determining their fate. Civilization awaits my decision.
I shouldn’t say “should”, if I want to be happy. But who can be content while they are wasting borrowed time?
Cardamom cloves. Poured into mismatched cup and steel glasses. Sipped over gossip and a twin-tailed mermaid.
fat weighs less than depression, but has greater volume, filling the space between id and ego, a gelatinous buffer against world.
If you had had just a little more time, I might have pulled up my sleeve to show you the bruises.
Don’t mention my divorce or deferred adolescence but apologize
for the times I was a lousy parent.
We're pleased to announce the release of Issue 8 of the Dreamers Magazine, including the winners of our Place & Home Contest Get your copy now!
He’s tired of feeling like a criminal. He’s tired of being in a country that needed him, needed his people, but didn’t want their kind.
I am | the Other Side of the story, the face | from a picture book | whose title | you cannot | pronounce: | In another life | I forged with you across continents,
Animals move—it’s our birthright, a gift from ancient ancestors in the form of genes that could eventually code for leg or wing or fin.
The boat stares back with many eyes. Some closed in prayer, others close to fainting. A few people imagine childhood homes or hold photos of a small Italian port. Some cry. Some are confused.
I do know that slowly, my own heart healed as patients and families invited me into the special intimacy of illness.
Dreamers Creative Writing is dedicated to writing that is from the heart.
Mail us: email@example.com
*This site uses Google Analytics. Visit Google privacy and terms for details.