Turning Tides

Literature and Arts Journal

Category: Fiction

  • Home, Company, and Cleanup

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    By: Nolan Yasa At the dining table that evening, she strikes a match and lights the candles, casting a magical glow over the space. Large-paned windows surround a rectangular table on three sides continuously until the table meets the slender kitchen. The sun is withdrawing its light beyond the horizon and the orange light fills…

  • Up Rises the Daughter of the Deep

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    By: Lily Novak Aoife O’Caelinn looked out across the bay; the soft sea wind whispered through her damp hair. The waves seemed to call her. Come back, stay with me. “I wish I could,” she whispered, “but I’ve school to get to. Dad’d have me skin if I missed the day.” Her longing gaze changed…

  • Letter from the Fiction Editorial Team

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    Throughout the semester, the fiction editorial team has prepared and worked to add quality fiction works to the Turning Tides journal. At the start of the semester we all had varying levels of aptitude when it came to reading and analyzing literary work so we spent a few weeks training and refining our craft. We…

  • Season Of Revenge

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    By: Matthew Terio It was my Junior year, our record was 9-2. It was the D2 State Championship game at Gillette Stadium versus Catholic Memorial. The scoreboard read 28 – 7, and there were only thirty seconds left in the game. I stood in the huddle trying to catch my breath. The cold December air…

  • How To Put Up A Christmas Tree

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    By: Sarah Nilson First, be married for 70+ years.Then, choose a Christmas tree,or compromise on a Christmas tree.You like the tallest tree; it will fitnicely. “That tree is too tall. Let’s getthis one. Its branches bulkdelightfully,” your bride says.On the drive home,with the tree strapped to the truck,let the memories flood infrom that first winter…

  • Old Friend

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    By: Angela Mazzola “I’ll take the ham, one pound, thinly sliced,” Yolanda said, her head pounding from the relentless screams of her 4-year-old. “Thank you,” she added, grabbing the deli bag in a daze and pushing her cart forward. “Oh my gosh!” a woman yelped as Yolanda accidentally rammed into her. “I am so, so…

  • The Real Monster

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    By: Angela Mazzola “Bedtime, girls! Bedtime!” Two little bodies scampered beneath the covers, giggles echoing as they snuggled into their pillows. The soft glow of the nightlight painted stars on the ceiling. “Bedtime story, Mommy!” they cried in unison. Their mother smiled, tired but warm, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Of course, my…