Chauncey's profile

“A Scholarship” a personal essay by Phil Di Tullio A scholarship, to my surprise, is what was in my mail that day, not a letter telling me to pack it up and get out. May I also add that the latter of the two would have been more believable? Like the first impulse of any middle of the road student, I thought that my two-thousand, four-hundred, twenty-five dollar, and zero cent award was merely a great mistake, one that they would soon correct. Yet after the highly expected and overly anticipat...

I stared at him the whole ride home. The bus shook hard at every turn, yet he sat unmoved, eyes glazed over. He glanced back at me, and then looked away. My heart was filled with pity as I silently chuckled a condescendingly. Without so much as a word between us, I knew what kind of man he was: just another fool working the nine-to-five with nothing to show for it but a torn leather briefcase, a cheating wife, and a brown suit. I turned and gazed out upon the fleeting city. Suddenly, I heard...

"The Journey" Here I'm not_I am away, I will be for a while. In fact I may return to find, Your cloths are out of style. Much time will pass before I'm back, But don't worry, don't you fret. To the kitchen I have gone, Some nutrients must I get. Okay, I admit it, I eat alot, And this I can't deny. Yet I enjoy it all the time, Each burger and every fry. From the stove I smell a smell, So wonderful and bold. I must attend to this great urge, I hope it's hot not cold. And while I may seem quite ...

“For Our Soldiers” By Phil Di Tullio Upon the tower, gleaming, glowing, you rest your head and pray. Next morning, death you shall be sowing, an early judgment day. Upon the roof, you cite your foe, his fate will soon be found. Your gun: it gives the final blow, his body hits the ground. The tears flow freely from your eyes, your heart is bound with grief. No one hears your painful cries, they maintain their disbelief. A murderer they have called you, one who drains the life filled well. but ...