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”

An Endangered Specimen

Taylor Hatchet, C’21 Numb Fingers cling to the interior of warm pockets. A hood covers nearly frost-bitten ears Eyes watch him closely, examining his every move Scrutinizing him from every angle The width of his nose, his ebony kinks, his brown skin They linger on his skin Until they conceive an idea of who heContinue reading “An Endangered Specimen”

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”

Not Obsolete

Micaela Kreuzwieser, C’20 Nothing makes sense anymore. Hands scribbled, drafted, carefully printed, primed my thoughts into paragraphs, sparked embers that spiraled into spasmed, impassioned debates where words whirled round and round and round my inner contents. My pages now damp, mildewed with age and shame, as I sit where I was squirreled on the sameContinue reading “Not Obsolete”

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”

L’appel du Vide

Danny Whirlow, C’21 I am a thanatologist. On these cliffs I study, contemplate.   The wisping air has pulled me off path   Again,  Itself a strait weathered by   Other wayward souls.   My plodding stops and I look out over   The misty water. The only thing distinguishing it   From the gray skies is its turbulence. Below,   RocksContinue reading “L’appel du Vide”