by Maggie Burke ’19 Your name lights up my screen, and I instantly drown in a memory of when we communicated by a simple hand squeeze, not fingers tapping keys, those talks come with far less ease. Out of the corner of my eye, I could always catch your smile, that one that has been […]
by William Bozian ’19 I do not decide who I am, for who I am is decided by another. Some may think I strive to harm, but some may see me as their brother. All in all, who I am comes down to my beliefs, Because beliefs often act as our own thieves. My beliefs […]
Dear Tiff and Earl, What do people do here on Halloween? Is trick-or-treating still a thing and if so where? Because caffeine isn’t getting me through midterms and I need some candy asap. Sincerely, Sugar Fiend Dear Sugar Fiend, First off, let’s get this straightened out. I hate to break it to ya, but […]
Kris Dunn & Coach Cooley Huxley & Friar Dom Dot & Fran Dean Sears & His Running Stick PC Squirrel & Trash Can Martha Stewart & Snoop Dogg Pete Davidson & Ariana Grande (Too Soon?) Chicken Nugget & Curly Fry Aquinas & Marx Trump & Kim Jong-un Tom Brady & a Goat Starbucks & Dunkin’ […]
by Connor Zimmerman ’20 “Enter when Hope is a thing of the past.” Shivering, Ron reads the sign posted on the door. The cold wind seeps through his skin and begins to settle within his body. Trying to work up the courage to go in, Ron takes one last look at his surroundings. The dilapidated […]
TickTok TickTok Tick I feel it running after me Its breath on my neck. —Jessica Polanco ’20 I can’t feel myself. No one hears me talk to them Is this death for me? —Connor Zimmerman ’20 I hear a shuffle And a chill goes down my back All I see are eyes —Sam […]
by Gabriela Baron ’20 October is the month of possibility. Our creativity develops and deepens like the crimson and cinnamon fall foliage. Each gust of crisp air propels our thoughts to the future. What do you want to be? The answer used to change every year: Dorothy, Snow White, a ladybug, Eeyore. On Halloween, I […]
by Sam Ward ’21 It’s okay. You can look away. Still fixated at the heap of feathers and blood at our feet: I’ve seen dozens of dead birds and have had perfectly splendid days. Perfectly. Splendid. Perhaps if I knew our correspondence would be, Stockholm / Lima, I would have chosen my words more carefully, […]
The Carson Killer He didn’t want to get caught. The day he was suspected the shadows scratched across the hardwood floors of 29 Carson Avenue, as though the sun were trying to drag them to the basement. Day or night the sun succeeded; a cellar filled with more dark than light said as much. That’s […]