Valiant Scribe
A literary hub giving voice to the voiceless by retelling the human experience

Secondly, the rest of the children’s voices suddenly rose up and filled the room.  And then, John began to spin. 

Feeding the youth with the milk of deception, Grooming them to believe the world owes them. They hold the world at ransom...

Old age does have its perks. I don’t have to take off my shoes going through security when I fly.

Her writing became bolder. In the long, lonely hours alone, she ruminated over the fate of those captured.

“If there is no God, what is left?” he interrogated himself.  He stood motionless in a warm, dry wind, felt himself falling into an eternity

My home in Syria, loud bangs I hear, my hands on my ears, mama say bombs fall from the sky, she grab me down the stairs like she is the wind

We ALL look so alien, just as what we’re called on the official documents.

This woman who shows me her lovely fifteen-year-old face, polished nails bright red, and the green eyes of a 1985 National Geographic cover.

Afghanistan’s Kyrgyz nomads survive in one of the most remote, high-altitude, bewitching landscapes on Earth. It’s a heavenly life – and...

Our sons lived for five years in an orphanage in the rainforest of Puerto Maldonado, Peru after their biological parents died. When our...

Chaos. Wrenching at her. It will sweep her away if it can. Clari’s left hand grips the gummy steering wheel, her right the stubborn gear...

I am not a lost boy. Lost girl. It doesn’t sound the same, the name doesn’t roll off the tongue. No, girls cannot be allowed in Neverland.

He stumbled much Always arose knowing Another enemy waited As the mother shed Her tears in solitude Seeing in him A heart as pure as

Harry pneumatically lowered the front of the bus. John smiled, went along with the joke, and hunched over as if he were an old man. He...

2020 was the cruelest year breeding ice-cold storms from pain and hatred long kept hidden away from the sun’s light. Something caged...

i woke with the sun that summer / reeking dump familiar with its liquefying salty ozone and human marzipan / and rollerbladed to the...

Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. But there is nothing right or seemly that those we have asked to die are doctors. teachers....

1. The ghost girl was Little Lucy, no connection to Lucille Ball, flashed her dimples, red hair on the Capitol Mall, wore smoke-soaked...

As we entered high school and began preparing for the next four years that would culminate in either an acceptance or rejection to our...

This is for the Church. I do not, as a rule, object to anyone of any persuasion reading my humble prose. So, Taoists, those who follow...