Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Confessions.
Your Story is My Favourite Story
I’ve always felt my age to be an indescribably liminal thing. If I were to be completely unfiltered about it, I’d say it’s like I’m 5 and 60 years old at the same time: both pressed by the weight of responsibility and maturity of someone twice my age (my life required me to grow up pretty quickly) and then seemingly in the next breath or day dream a rambunctious hyper little kid that wants to do and be everything and seize all that life has to offer in one firestorm of a moment. Or one firestorm of a sentence.
By Ella Olga5 years ago in Confessions
Worthy Exhaustion
Pulling an all-nighter upholstering a chair and forcing my scissors to cut through napped fabric has left me with man hands this morning. I hold both of my thumbs up side by side. The left has a perfect curve. I rub my finger down my right thumb, hitting a hard dip. Is this my bone? I feel my left thumb again and compare it to my right. Pinching the skin and pulling... it's just callus. Goodness, I was starting to think I permanently deformed my thumb. I've never taken the time to look at my hands before, but today they are aching something fierce. This must be coming from years of choosing the hard plastic all-purpose scissors that cost $12.99 instead of the $50 shears with the comfortable grip.
By Alicia Acosta5 years ago in Confessions
Freedom in Happiness
I find freedom. In the process of collecting my aggression and frustration, processing it to the expression of choices I make while I produce something, relevant or irrelevant, the piece is simply the product of my identity. Creativity is a bridge to addressing the issue, capturing a feeling. In a state similar to what some refer to as “free-flowing” creative expression; swift, mindless cuts to a stencil and strokes of a brush. Still, with a balance of intricate and precise placement that I blame on a grip, that is usually choking my emotions. This is the basis.
By Nicolas Linsalata5 years ago in Confessions
Laughter is the best medicine.
Ever since I was a little girl. People would say. " You're funny." So I made it my mission to delight people with jokes, singing, laughter dance. I was enrolled in every dance class morning, noon and night. I had such a hard time in school paying attention. And it was not until my third grade teacher read my short comedic story about someone trying to finish a race and falling face first in the mud infront of the class that I realized I delighted in making others laugh. I knew that it was my calling. Finally I had done something right. Every since then I have delighted in the idea of writing a sketch comedy show. Every chance I get I work on it and I mention it to everyone in passing. I have not had a chance to create it in full just bits here and there. But when I write I am always surprised to see what comes out. I had heard that Beethoven channeled his music though dreams. I channel my improv through pretending to be characters with friends. And long walks to funk music. I am now twenty six. I have attended theatre school, sang at broadway workshops ( Shaking in my boots) I must add infront of broadway singers during the Newsies and Matilda tour, done Shakespeare and musicals, toured schools. But still I have not created my own show.
By Milan Shultz5 years ago in Confessions
That Time I Cheated
This has been more than twenty years in the making. I cheated, it was once, but it was big. My boyfriend and I had been dating off and on for years. He asked me to marry him when I was seventeen. I said no. As you can imagine we broke up after that.
By J.B. Miller5 years ago in Confessions
What Really Matters
My mother taught me the importance of a good pair of scissors. Our livelihood depended on them. Not long after my mom and dad met, my father bought a new set of golf clubs, which came with some scraggly-looking yarn club covers. He decided he could make better ones, and said to my mom, “these could make a good business. Sew me up one.” Of course, my father didn’t know how to sew.
By Echo Roben5 years ago in Confessions
Scissors for Life
When we hear the phrase 'Life saving' we immediately think 'Doctor' or 'Paramedic' and we often forget about the little guys. I am a lifeguard by trade, and by hobby a Lifeguard instructor. An under estimated profession, as we are often looked at as lazy baby sitters and act as janitors for the pool. The unknown skill hidden behind these two facades are indeed exactly what you want to have sitting in that chair, watching you swim in that pool, where nothing ever happens. This if often when, something does happen.
By Calla Lily5 years ago in Confessions
Sprouted in Old Barrels
In between my room and the back veranda where I spent most of my time, was a tiny 6x8 room used to iron clothes. The room was always dark as the only natural light that made its way in was filtered through an insubstantial window whose purpose I never truly understood. Permeating the room was the scent of the old ironing board, crispy yet warm after years of use. The room always had clothes newly pressed or just about to be, hung up in the makeshift closet or strewn around on top of the barrels that were pushed up against the longest wall. When no one was around and I got tired of climbing the grill that enclosed the veranda I’d always sneak into the little room to search through the barrels.
By Kerry Cooper5 years ago in Confessions
Sprouted in old Barrels
In between my room and the back veranda where I spent most of my time, was a tiny 6x8 room used to iron clothes. The room was always dark as the only natural light that made its way in was filtered through an insubstantial window whose purpose I never truly understood. Permeating the room was the scent of the old ironing board, crispy yet warm after years of use. The room always had clothes newly pressed or just about to be, hung up in the make shift closet or strewn around on top of the barrels that were pushed up against the longest wall. When no one was around and I got tired of climbing the grill that enclosed the veranda I’d always sneak into the little room to search through the barrels.
By Kerry-Ann Cooper5 years ago in Confessions
Saving memories
In creating happiness, I produce happiness through creating memories with greeting cards and other crafts. This car is a small token that I have found over the years that I truly enjoy receiving like I still have every single greeting card that green card I've ever received as an adult from birthday cards to graduation cards to Mother's Day cards to just because holiday cards. I still have all of them. I've always found value in these cards, I started trying to create cards for others.
By Chauntelle A5 years ago in Confessions
