12th of August -Tom

Greetings to you, and with all my respect, I need to write this for myself, but also for you. This might be different and it’s not part of my career as a journalist to say that. This is not my job and maybe I won’t be paid for this, but if it’s not me, who will be then?

Today, I want to share you the big truth, what you all know, but this time, there’s no need to fake it. I h...

"To begin this exposition

about the ruler's disposition,

I must state my one ambition

is to say my soul opinion

and explain my one prevision

to enlighten our revision

on the prior king's decision

to have this heir in recognition

as king with his permission.

He is awful!

For his statements are fake,

promises half-baked

to the point you can't shake

every one mistake,

for there's only so much

a nat...

“Mercy for the tyrant is injustice to the weak”.

Never backing down.

Never backing down against injustice in the face of overwhelming fear is what our journalist Mr. Ahmed Jamal taught us today.

He showed us what backbone means. Needn’t he cared about his post, any dirty framing or about his own life. He’s sent all of us journalists a string of shame down our spines.

So today, I write this t...

Raised on grits and eggs, born in a trailer park, high school dropout, with her first baby by fifteen, BillieJo Loggett had gone from single mother waitress to successful business owner to congresswoman. With her hand to mouth upbringing and real world business experience BillieJo could have shaken the rich boys’ club of Congress until it trembled. But instead of the poor man’s friend, BillieJo wa...

Walking into the castle, guards and people lock their gazes on me.

Their whispers pinch my ears, reminding me of my mistake.

“That’s Violet, the journalist…”

“I heard it was all a hoax…”

“Dang, she’s gorgeous..”

I roll my eyes at that last comment.

I suddenly feel a tug on my wrist; Prince Holt steers me away into a large room, one I can guess to be a meeting room.

A large table sits in the mi...

See you cursing my name

See you crushing my fame

I’m not a player in your game

So I’m not going to play it safe

See your name smudged

Your red face

Furied

Revenge

I was at a party

R&B music blasting

Head pounding

Dancing all night long

You storm in

With a lethal weapon

Pointed at me

And i lay on the ground, bloodshed...

“Are you sure you want to print this?” Jack’s boss asked after setting down the stack of papers he was reading. “Your name would be on it, Jack…”

“I’m sure, Phil,” Jack responded quickly. “He can’t keep getting away with this, and if no one says anything he will.”

Phil scratches his chin and leans back in his chair. “Jack, I respect your work and your morals. You consistently write the truth wi...

After three days in the empty pool, with cold weather and lack of food and drink, Val turned his eyes to the thrum of an engine over the cement rim. A man dressed in a black long coat and smiley mask appeared next to the edge.

“Mr. Coover wants to talk with you.” The man threw down a rope ladder.

Val shuddered from the cold, but made it up the ladder. His limbs hurt and his lips were parched wor...

Today is the day. The day of explosion of rheir nasty corruptions. I’ve been searching and investigating on the politician’s secret negotiations with the firms. Whenever they were encountering the conflicts, they went to the firm. An assination company. From revealing their dark side, I could outline the victims whom are suffering and vexed monetarily, as if the rats inside the track. I click the ...

They say don’t make your work your life, but Erin had always existed to write. From the morning to night, they would sit at their computer and type away. First, creative stories. Then, non-fiction, documentary-type stuff. Now, they had made a career for themselves in journalism. Nowadays, the hot topics were always about exposing corrupt people, politicians, usually, and when they wrote about Nash...