After reviewing the vote we are pleased to announce that the winning piece was--

Bruja Crocodilo--The Crocodile Witch
By Julia Drake

Congratulations, Julia!

By Blake Nellis

Brussels, Belgium – capital of the European Union & cultural melting pot. Population: 1.4 million (over 30% composed of expats).

Brussels, Wisconsin – oldest Belgian settlement in the United States of America. Population: 1,112 (98% of pop. composed of Caucasians).

By Jodi Becker

From the moment I arrive on the island of Miyajima, things go like clockwork. And with all the morning’s frustrations quickly fading away, I remind myself that today is another gift. After all, I am so lucky to have such a wonderful friend, one who delights in hosting a silly gal like me in this new and strangely fantastic land. Dustin has been nothing short of amazing and I want to express my immense gratitude by celebrating every moment here.

By Nicole Eryan

Our waitress Tamzin made her way across the floor of the Blue Train Café. It was our last night in Melbourne and it was just as if the city wanted to give us our own special goodbye. The lights were talking, the water was dancing, and deep down inside we all couldn't bare to leave a city with such charm. I asked Tamzin for her absolute official opinion of why she loves Australia and this is what followed:

January, 24th 2007

By Nicole Eryan

By Lauren David

The earth roars as water plummets hundreds of feet into the gorge. An incredible cloud of mist hovers over this natural wonder of the world as if frozen in time. To the naked eye, nothing seems to be moving. The mist can be spotted several miles away, giving tourists and locals a reference point without fail.

By Julia Drake

5:32 a.m. Sunrise. From the terrace of our room I watch the languid flow of the Tamarindo estuary. The mangrove trees at its banks claw their roots into the muddy water. Through the prison bars of the rain, I spot the old woman in her canoe. Every morning she rows upriver, like clockwork. I wonder where she is going.

In our tiny room, my boyfriend Jared lies in bed, scratching bug bites in his sleep. He'll sleep in till late afternoon. What else is there to do, except to regret our decision to spend our long-anticipated surf vacation in Costa Rica?

By Christy Reid

I called. "It's time for our walk." The 65 pound yellow Labrador retriever ran to me, muzzling my outstretched hand.

"Good dog," I patted his head, snapped on the leash, slipped the harness over his head, and fastened it under his chest. I could feel Brogan wagging his tail. He was eager to go.

By Alexe Mericle

By Andrea MacDonald

It was a bright and beautiful afternoon, yellow-tinted and lazy. I was sitting in the window seat of a quiet bus, squares of sunlight on my bare legs, sewing the ripped sleeve of my favourite grey hoodie with periwinkle thread. I could hear Croatian music playing at the front. It was the warmest day in a week.

Vukovar was quiet when I arrived. The bus station is at the end of a long parking lot, so I slung my backpack over my shoulder and followed signs to the centre. I had no idea where to find the Hotel Dunav but I had all day to look.