Henry Parrish Jr.
Bio
I have a BA in History and am working on an MA in English. I have always written poems and short stories since middle school.
Author of my first novel, After The Fall, available here https://books.by/henrydparrishjr
Stories (13)
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Reader Response Analysis of Borges
Jorge Luis Borges’ short story The Circular Ruins is often read as a meditation on reality, illusion, and the nature of creation. However, through the lens of Reader-Response Theory, the meaning of the story becomes deeply personal—formed not solely by Borges’ intent, but by how the text interacts with the reader’s beliefs and experiences. For me, this story resonates profoundly with my spiritual belief that the soul is eternal and that after death, it transcends this earthly plane and moves to a higher state of being. Through that perspective, the story becomes not a tale of existential dread, but one of comfort, transformation, and divine continuity.
By Henry Parrish Jr.10 months ago in Critique
Through the Archway
I decided to visit the historic town of Plymouth, NC this past weekend. Plymouth sits along the banks of the Roanoke River in Washington County and was established in 1787. The population of the town is around 3300 people and Main street features several interesting shops, along with the maritime museum and a boardwalk along the river.
By Henry Parrish Jr.11 months ago in Families
Life & Love
I saw your face today as I was running down the street trying to catch up with a friend who was ahead of me. It took me by surprise because I hadn't thought of you in a while. Life is like that sometimes. Someone who meant the world to you at one time, who you thought you could never live without, suddenly isn't in the forefront of your mind. I used to scan all the faces around me, hoping to see you in someone's face and never seeing you. But today, today was different. There you were. It was just a heartbeat, just a fraction of a moment that I thought I saw you in a young man's face. He had the same coal black wavy hair and the blue-green eyes that you used to have. Ahhh, the way you used to look at me. As if I was the only person in the world. You would smile, as we danced in the rain.Your laughter echoing all around us.
By Henry Parrish Jr.11 months ago in Fiction
Letter To No One
I am sitting here today writing this as I have just come home from seeing all of you and realizing that all my past failures and mistakes are always going to be helg against me. I am never going to escape the foolishness of my past. Those mistakes I made back then are haunting me and I don't know if I will ever be able to escape them.
By Henry Parrish Jr.11 months ago in Poets
The Miracle
The night air hung low over the countryside as the two figures made their way down the lane, draped by Spanish moss trees. The night was a typical southern night, muggy even at nine in the evening, with thousands of fireflies lighting the night. As the two continued to walk down the lane, the night sky rumbled and lightning flashed across it.
By Henry Parrish Jr.3 years ago in Fiction
My Words
My words fall like rain from my lips. The ground soaks them up hungrily. Yet no one hears my words. They fall like a summer mist onto the land. No one ever really notices that either. I stand alone on this ridge above the canyon. I look down into its depths. My head telling my body to take flight. I raise my arms, stretch them out and fling myself into the sky. The feel of the wind is upon my face. My soul takes flight. There is peace as I fall to the earth. Maybe this sound will be heard by all.
By Henry Parrish Jr.3 years ago in Poets
The Photograph
I hold in my right hand a photograph, a little green eyed boy stares back. Yet this picture is deceiving, for behind his smile and laughter, the sparkle of life in his eyes, there was pain, shame, loneliness. The mask he wore fooled everyone. No one saw his pain, they only saw his smile.
By Henry Parrish Jr.3 years ago in Poets
