By James Moran

“The world was wet with tears. The walls, the desk, this sheet of paper. God’s tears. Only God’s tears rain indoors—” 


I looked up. 

“I can hear you whispering over there, but I don’t see anything written on your paper,” said Ms. Tannenbaum, my Introduction to Poetry teacher. 

“The page is too wet,” said the boy sitting across the aisle from me. 

“What’s that?” Ms. Tannenbaum strode down the aisle to us. 

The boy’s smile was snarky. “I’m just playing with you,” he said to me. “No, uh, I was just thinking,” he said to Ms. Tannenbaum, “that she might wanna check out the poetry slam they have in the cafeteria on weekends, since she likes to say her poetry out loud more than say it on her paper.” 

“Oh, what a great idea,” said Ms. Tannenbaum. “Clarissa, is that something you’d be interested in?” 

I looked at the boy, then shrugged. I looked down at the blank sheet of paper on my desk. “I’ll go with him. He can show me.” 

“Great!” Ms. Tannenbaum left us, delighted. 

“One moment is all it takes to make a decision that changes everything,” I whispered dramatically to the sheet of paper.

I glanced at the boy. He was looking at me.

We broke into laughter.

James Moran is a professional astrologer who regularly publishes articles, fiction, and poetry.
His published works can be found at

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