Joseph Natali, C’19 I sit on my porch, pipe in hand, reclining in a decaying camp chair while fragrant smoke curls around my head. It’s too hot for the end of September, and I wonder if it has anything to do with the burning forest the next state over. A year ago, sweat would haveContinue reading “A Brief Reflection on the Nature of Home”
Category Archives: Prose
Come with Me
Ian Tracey, C’21 Here I stand in a state of trance. A barrage of bass, a salvo of synth, a kickdrum kaleidoscope, my symphony. I am here and nowhere else. The vodka and orange juice I had snuck in swirl and storm below my tired eyes, thrashing against their circular plastic prison. I feel sick,Continue reading “Come with Me”
An Invitation
Cat Nelson, C’21 I realized I was dreaming when the key fell out of the envelope. It was old, dark metal, and it should have made a satisfying thud when it hit the flesh of my hand. Instead, it felt the same as the air. The paper slid out behind it like a whisper, andContinue reading “An Invitation”
Invisible
Kyra Lipetzky, C’24 The wind blows through me, harsh and cold as it drags the dying leaves across my feet. Shuddering, I pull my-self away, taking a step back from the cracked pavement I was on. There’s a chuckle, warm as the fragile embers of a doused fire, “You’ll get used to it kid.” TheContinue reading “Invisible”
No One Lives Here Anymore
Elizabeth Elin, C’23 The smell of skinned tree trunk bitter around me, I feel hands, loved and yet now livid, on my hair, hands on my heart. The mud squishes and seeps into my face. Is it mud? My mind is full and I do not know. Soil or blood? It runs down my face,Continue reading “No One Lives Here Anymore”
The Pact of Silence
Jessica Ackerman, C’20 I never knew my uncle, but I always liked to look at his photo. It was framed and perfectly placed on a top shelf in my mom’s childhood home. The house was home to many, the side door—never the front—constantly opening to welcome in family, both blood-related and otherwise. When I walkedContinue reading “The Pact of Silence”
The Same as Yesterday
Sean Callahan, C’24 The transformation started in the morning. Or maybe it was hours ago, in the middle of the night, when I feltlike running laps and jumping hurdles. Hours ago when I should’ve been exhausted from Track and Field, asleep. I was lucky to finally get two hours of sleep after tossing and turningContinue reading “The Same as Yesterday”
The Little Neighborhood
Madison Kozera, C’24 The brisk wind blew across the roundabout in the neighborhood playground, spinning it gently in a small circle. The branches in the trees rapped against the shut windows of one of the homes. A grill’s dying embers still smoldered beneath three charcoal-colored slabs of meat, their forms as blackened as the sameContinue reading “The Little Neighborhood”
Blue Stone Park
Isabel Sicree, C’22 Like an owl cry on a snowy morning, the music cut through the blue pines, slicing the silence around me like a serrated knife, sawing as it progressed. The voice was soft when it started, but gradually built up louder and louder a sit marched my way, agonizing over something long gone.Continue reading “Blue Stone Park”
Shark in a Fish Bowl
Sarah DelMaramo, C’22 There once was a shark that lived in a fish bowl. Someone picked it up one day from the depths of the sea and dropped it into a perfectly round, perfectly empty bowl filled with water. The shark swam round and round the bowl, constantly staring at its own tail as itContinue reading “Shark in a Fish Bowl”
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