by Connor Zimmerman ’20 Is it bad that I can feel the echoes of your sorrow coming off of you, as I glide over the scars on your arm? Is it bad that I can touch your distress as my fingers run through your hair? Is it bad that I can sense your anguish pulsing […]
by Elizabeth McGinn ’21 Snow-roofed colonial revivals, nearly identical except for the colors; candles aglow in each window, welcoming wreaths on the door, twinkling lights hidden in the shrubbery. Walk inside any and there’s a familiar scene; a family gathered around the tree, plaid or snowman pajamas and fuzzy socks, hot chocolate—Peppermint Schnapps for the […]
by Sarah Klema ’23 – Creative Writing Contest Winner Exposure to the elements has worn it thin. Now fragmented, forgotten, it fights to be rediscovered. Sulking at the bottom of the glassy rolling stream, a treasure lies in patient wait. Tarnished, wooden drawer knob of sorts, separated from its hollow body ages beyond telling–– antiquated. […]
by Jay Willett ’20 The card didn’t scan at first. I panicked though I knew in the back of my mind that my credentials were fine. The RIPTA driver raised an eyebrow, and I could feel the warm sensation of sweat seeping through my sweatshirt. The machine beeped, I scuttled to a seat directly behind […]
by Clara Howard ’20 There’s a half-remembered ranch house with a stream in front. A perfect place for playing princesses and pirates. On the outside, white siding gave way to honeycolored stones. On the inside, rooms opened their arms wide, ready to embrace wild imaginations, cooking mishaps, and childhood innocence. Wallpapered bedrooms smiled at stuffed […]
by Jay Willett ’20 Adrenaline, the veins on my temple popped, blood pumped away from the brain and into the legs. Don’t look back, otherwise, it’ll get you. Though the basement was finished, and the carpet bristled under my pacing feet, it was a dungeon, miles underneath Celtic gravel. Stripped of sight, the setting of […]
by Dawyn Henriquez ’19 An Interpretation of “Untitled” (Perfect Lovers) by Felix Gonzalez-Torres Clock on the Far Wall It hangs nearly lifeless above the seldom-visited bookshelf. Its crimson hand slaps each second, skipping its obligatory pause at each black line. It races instead, tracing the lines of its body with each round. “I’m ok. […]
by Julia Zygiel ’19 In the soft dew of morning’s twilight, when birds and beetles silently meditate for a fraction of a second, I love you. In the subtle crinkle of your not-yet-crow’s feet winking at me, and the scent of your honeyed lip balm when you knight my nose with a kiss, I love […]
by Connor Zimmerman ’20 What does it take to be broken? Knowing that there is something wrong within yourself, something that just isn’t right. You don’t hide it, no you wear it on your sleeve as an omen. To warn others that this pain has a hold on you that is tight. But you keep […]
by Dawyn Henriquez ’19 Of those already called back to the air I am the one that can’t burn. When I was six, I set things aflame in the kitchen sink when mom wasn’t home. The skins of napkins crinkled, as the soft scent of burnt cotton slithered into my nose. Packs of boxed matches […]