Amanda Moyher, C’21
I.
K: Let’s go back in time for a minute. What were you doing on December 15, 2003
[redacted]?
A: The snow on the ground is abundant and white like crystals. A little girl runs across the yard in
a pink, puffy coat with a pink button nose. She laughs at her mother who tries her best to be a
snow monster. The closer the snow monster gets to catching her, the farther the little girl travels.
It’ll be years before they reach each other.
II.
K: [redacted] What part of this role has surprised you the most?
A: I reveal every secret I’ve ever had. I unwind myself to the point of being a mere spindle; my thread
rests in his bare hands. He takes the thread and hangs it all over the walls. I feel the urge to laugh
or cry, but I don’t know which should come first.
III.
K: [redacted] Which [redacted] values resonate with you the most, and why?
A: Rain poured down the slanted roof. A wall of water, a potential threat. I wasn’t worried about
the world as my smile stretched around it five times. I traded one hand for arms. I won’t
remember that moment ever again. Remind me.
IV.
K: Where do you think [you’ll] be in another 15 years? Think big picture.
A: Hot water running from the metallic tap. I miss the skin covering the palm of your hand.
V.
K: Do you have any final messages for [your] readers?
A: Everything was meant to be broken.
Do I look like someone you remember fondly?
Generation 