The Fluco Beat

Hands

Angela Cumiskey, Creative Writing Student • May 17, 2022

Grasping at walls, grasping at doors An innocent creature, an unruly force Covered in sand it deteriorates Washed away, it stays Open, it waits for a companion Slowly losing its grip...

2022 “Undefined” Literary Magazine Premieres

FCHS Journalism Staff • May 12, 2022

The FCHS Literary Club, which is celebrating its 19th year, published its 2022 Undefined magazine on May 13. The magazine showcases the artwork, poetry, and prose of students at the high school. The 2021...

Vacivus Grove

Ethan Ritchey, Journalist • April 28, 2022

Alone I dolefully stand in a field of desecrated land. My kin were wrongfully stole away, stripped of their bark and set on truck beds to lay, We are but fodder to the luxuries of man, to burn, be...

Waves

Brooke Smith, Journalist • April 22, 2022

Waves, pushing and pulling Sand, shells, and creatures Back and forth Back...

The Devil Child

Matthew Pappaconstantinou, Creative Writing Student • April 13, 2022

Why did this have to happen to me? I’m already stressed enough and now I have a child in a box. I put my hand over my head and let out a long sigh. I look over at the sleeping child. She appears to be...

The Gluttony of Love

Bridget Kirchner, Creative Writing Student • March 23, 2022

Love is a box of chocolates Giving away one piece to anyone The surface being oh so delicious A perfect snack to feast on Love is not just one layer Mounds of gush and a variety of flavors All hide...

Poetry is like a splash of art

Reese Deane • March 16, 2022

Poetry is like a splash of art. The words jump off the page. Turn into something beautiful. Words run off the page into a fountain of colors. The paint folds into different words. The words are addicting,...

True Life

Diana Graham, Creative Writing Student • March 11, 2022

It was raining that day, and we were all dressed in a gothic manner, huddled around a gravestone. This gravestone however, wasn’t just any gravestone. It was my little brother Alex’s gravestone. My...

The Act

Danielle Scott, Journalist • February 25, 2022

Can you not crack...the act? Can you not see...the real me? I smile...to hide the denial. I have peers always around me...to stop the neverending tears. It's getting hard to pretend...that these thoughts...

My Church

Haliey Leake • February 18, 2022

As I sit here in this old wooden pew I find myself remembering all the special memories that God gave me in this church. A little girl full of love and joy found a shelter of safety and abounding love...