From out in the outfield dirt, the crack of the bat was the only indicator a ball was rising up before dive bombing, back through the crepuscular sky. Jimmy turned and chased the echo of the sound. Go foul… Go foul… The ball, draped in a cloak of clouds, seemed to carry by a will… More Erythrophobia By Jameson Croteau (2017)
By: Jameson Croteau
My grandparents’ living room reeked of encroaching death. Nature, for years, had been welcomed into the cracks of the handpicked brick walls that had been layered and mortared as an act of love from my strong armed Papa. But every one of those flowers, vines, and blooms were dying, curling yellow and drying to the… More Nostalgia’s Curse By: Jameson Croteau
By: Jameson Croteau
Someone told me— right before my transatlantic flight—that Englishmen hate confrontation. Flash forward to my writing internship in London and I have an ex-MI5 agent, veins popping purple through the Skype window on my 16-inch laptop screen, about to burst from my criticism of his second to-be-published novel. His vitriol, hardly avoiding curses, were being… More How to Surive an Attack from an Ex-M15 Agent: Eleven Steps to Getting the Most out of Your Writing Workshop By: Jameson Croteau