Julia Schulz
Bio
I enjoy crafting poetry and telling stories. I especially love being in the "zone" when I take a deep dive with my subject matter, developing characters and settings and researching topics like history and sustainable living.
Stories (50)
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Lenore's All Natural, Plastic-Free Holiday Celebrations
There was only one rule: don't open the door. Emily stood looking at the unassuming wooden door, wondering why Lenore was so secretive about the back room. Was she afraid that Emily would learn her trade secrets and then start her own business? Or simply embarrassed about hoarding too many glass jars and reclaimed wood pieces?
By Julia Schulzabout a year ago in Horror
The Spy Who Did the Heimlich
My name is Bruce, like Bruce Wayne and Batman. On my birthday, I moved to the group home. I turned 30. Dad said I was a man and real men have their own places. I live with two other guys. Dave is in a wheelchair and Bob uses an iPad to talk to people. They watch football with me. Go Penn State!
By Julia Schulzabout a year ago in Fiction
Excuse Me, While I Buckle My Swash
I FIND DESPAIR AND APATHY COMMON ADVERSARIES IN ADDRESSING SOCIAL ISSUES AND ENVIRONMENTAL DESTRUCTION. AFTER A DISHEARTENING CONVERSATION ABOUT FAST FASHION WITH A YOUNG FINANCIALLY CHALLENGED CO-WORKER, I WAS ENCOURAGED BY A FRIEND TO REWATCH "AMAZING GRACE" ABOUT WILLIAM WILBERFORCE'S FIGHT AGAINST SLAVERY. DESPITE SOME HISTORICAL INACCURACIES, THE MOVIE RE-ENERGIZED ME AS DID A PASSAGE FROM THE BOOK OF ACTS IN MY PASTOR'S SUNDAY SERMON. MY ROMANTIC NATURE NEED NOT BE DISTANCED FROM TRUTH AND HOPE.
By Julia Schulzabout a year ago in Poets
Angels Unawares Work Weekends
My girlfriend and I rang the doorbell to the side door of an old brick downtown church, and a tall, heavy-set woman in shorts with glasses and graying hair pulled back into a ponytail answered. "Can I help you?" she said in a rather deep alto voice. She appeared middle-aged, like us.
By Julia Schulzabout a year ago in Psyche
Connection
BASED ON A TRUE STORY BUT THE NAMES HAVE BEEN CHANGED It was sometime in the early 1990's. I had hit a rough patch that lasted months and was moving from town to town, homeless and hungry. One warm, sunny day I sat cross-legged in the grass outside a suburban mall, begging for food, spare change .... anything I could hustle. My beard was shaggy and touched with gray, and soot and dirt from the road discolored my frayed jeans. I positioned myself near the entrance so that the passing motorists would see my cardboard sign asking for hand-outs.
By Julia Schulzabout a year ago in Psyche
Her Ride Came
POEM IN MEMORY OF JANINE.. I PLAYED WITH THE IDEA OF OUR RIDE OUT OF OUR EARTHLY EXISTENCE..THANKS TO EMILY DICKENSON AND WARREN ZEVON. I ALSO STOLE RAY BRADBURY'S IDEA OF TATTOOS THAT COME TO LIFE AND PLAYED WITH THE IDEA OF HOW A SPECIFIC INDIVIDUAL'S GUARDIAN ANGEL MAY APPEAR.
By Julia Schulzabout a year ago in Poets
Flying Under the Radar
On a dark night, Miguel and Israfil pedaled their rusty bicycles up the dusty driveway miles from the nearest town. Despite the heat, they both wore long-sleeve t-shirts and pants during the daytime to hide their olive skin tones lest they be recognized as "illegals." Miguel shone his flashlight on the fence and recognized the cat drawing as the vagabond symbol for a "kind woman." Peering further into the darkness, he perceived solar panels juxtaposed with a wooden outhouse and a clothesline.
By Julia Schulzabout a year ago in Fiction
The Last Real Snow Day
Charlotte glanced out the window at the snowflakes piling up under the night sky. She had just finished reading a story to her nephew's boy, Arthur, and tucked him into bed. He drifted to sleep as the snow blanketed the lawn. Charlotte was staying at her nephew Joe's house while Joe and his wife Lauren drove to a distant city for a conference on climate change.
By Julia Schulz2 years ago in Fiction
