The End

Abigail Pritchard

She slowly mixes sauce into pasta, crisp parmesan curls softening as Amy Winehouse drifts from the kitchen speaker, tuning out her thoughts. The intro to “Valerie” starts to play and her mind floods with rose tinted memories. Of dancing in the kitchen and kissing in public. Of screaming at each other in the street at 3 a.m. and watching movies in bed the whole next day. She can almost feel him brushing her hair back the night they met. She sees him through her old eyes, and for a second she is heartbroken all over again. She knows it can’t go on like this. The front door opens and closes and her memories turn to ice and shatter. As he walks into the kitchen, she is left with the broken pieces of the people they used to be. She begins loudly spooning pasta into bowls, slamming cabinets as she gathers cutlery. He comes up behind her, tentatively playing with the curls that have escaped her bun at the back of her neck, and she is overcome by a wave of annoyance at the sheer hope and denial in the gesture. His affection is a relic, no longer tender to her.

“Dinner’s ready,” she says, spinning from his touch and putting the bowls on the table.

She hears him sigh and feels the hurt in the sound low in her stomach. He washes his hands and moves to sit with her.

“How was your day?” he asks, his eyes tired, his tone hopeful.

“Fine,” she responds, scooping pasta into her mouth. “Sally called in sick so I had to pick up all the slack.”

He takes a bite of his food, then puts his fork down. He looks up at her, waiting for her to stop eating. When she catches his eye, she pauses.

“Are we going to talk about it?” he asks.

The gentleness in his voice is like fingernails in her back.

“About what?” she responds.

“You know what.”

She is ready to burst at the acknowledgement. The heartbreak and regret and anger and love and hate and exhaustion she has spent weeks quelling threaten the edges of her control. She breaks his gaze and begins eating again.

“Your food is going to get cold.”

She watches as the effort slumps out of his shoulders. They finish the meal in silence, and as soon as she is done she sweeps both bowls away and stands at the sink washing them. She looks out at the sun fading behind treetops and over the sound of the tap hears Amy Winehouse fade into Adele. “Someone Like You” starts playing, and before she can stop herself she’s laughing at the inane connection she feels with it.

He watches her from the table, laughing softly and shaking his head.

Her laughter gets louder and turns to sobs as she clutches at the wet sponge, washing already clean dishes with practiced aggression. And then he is holding her, clutching her from behind and crying softly into her shoulder. She drops the dish and the sponge and grips him tightly with wet hands.

She once read that the most intimate moment in a relationship is when both parties acknowledge that it’s over. She remembers this and clings to him for who he once was and can’t be.

Notes from the Creative Director

Hello AmFam!

It has been such an honor getting to be your Creative Director for the Spring 2023 release. Seeing all of your incredible work, enthusiasm and involvment with the magazine has been such an amazing experience. I could not have been able to do it without everyone’s dedication and creativity. I would like to give a special thank you to my wonderful assistants Lex Berman and Grace Hill who put up with me all semester (love you!). Thanks to Lex’s thoughtful layout expertise and Grace’s magnificent art featured on the covers and throughout the entrity of the magazine, we were able to pull of an exciting “groovy” theme that I personally think captures the essence of AmLit. To all the creatives out there...your work is such a gift!

Love you all, Emma

Geer

Contributor Bios

Abigail Pritchard isn’t convinced she knows how to read, she’s just memorized a lot of words.

Alexa Julian is a Care Bear collector who has only crashed one car.

Annika Rennaker is too nostalgic for her own good.

Caroline Siebert is a writer and poet who loves her cat and hates getting out of bed.

Evelina West is going out for a smoke. Wanna join?

Ginger Matchett is a junior majoring in International Studies and has taken various painting courses through AU’s art department. Her art centers around exploring the female nude figure and abstract expressionism. Through her advanced studio painting course, she is currently experimenting with combining these two concepts in a large scale work. Ginger became fascinated with the female nude during her AP high school art class in her hometown of Lancaster, PA. Creating art and visiting art museums are some of her favorite hobbies, and her work will soon be featured in the upcoming book publication, The Path She Makes.

Gracemary Allen is a disillusioned political science major who can typically be found reading in the community garden, listening to folk punk, and talking to birds. hope alex (she/her) is a wanna-be photographer that loves to capture candid photographs. she hopes to graduate this semester, so she thanks AmLit for allowing her to publish her work over the last two years!

Isabelle Ritz’s white camera is going to Scotland this summer!

Jordyn Baker is a sophomore and her favorite candy is Dots.

Julia Kane is a sophomore art history major from Raleigh, NC. Her houseplant collection has grown to 11, with no plans of stopping anytime soon.

Kaela Ryan is a depressed senior who attempts to cope through writing.

Kaitlyn loves listening to Phoebe Bridgers, lounging with a good book, and cataloging her every waking thought in the Notes app.

Lillian Lemme is in her first year at AU and believes every problem can be fixed with a good bagel and a phone call to her mother. She is a big fan of the ampersand.

Lindsey McCormack is a junior Film and Media Arts student and long time AmLit supporter.

McKenzie Taylor loves you.

Mei Matute still an Adelie penguin enthusiast, now purple and pink hair haver, and happy to be on AmLit’s magazine again!

Mia Atkinson is looking forward to summer so she can wear her sage-green linen pants.

Olivia Jones I’m a photographer & writer who wants to write a novel one day and travel the world. Is aways obsessing over her dogs.

Reagan Riffle I am a sophomore here at AU, originally from Peterborough, NH. I’m a double art-history and Black diasporic studies major, with a focus on hiphop and jazz music. These poems are inspired by days spent outside and special loved ones.

Sophia Nayyar is a junior in SPA, and a photographer focusing on landscapes and portraits.

Sydney Hsu is a writer, baker, craft connoisseur, and zine maker. No really, she co-edits a zine. (It’s called Pipe Dream Zine and everyone should check it out.)

Sydney Muench is a junior studying Film and Political Science-- she loves photography & traveling the world!

Talia Kahan Is probably hammocking and drawing strange creatures.

Vishwa Bhatt highly disagrees with the statement that oatmeal tastes like eating paper.

Zoe Smith has been quoted many times saying they hate poetry, especially Neruda. They are also known as a gigantic hypocrite.

Emma Briggs is a student at American University.

EDITORS-IN-CHIEF

ANJOLEIGH SCHINDLER

CHARLOTTE VAN SCHAACK

COPY EDITORS

HOPE JORGENSEN

OLIVIA JONES

COPY ASSISTANTS

ISABELLA SMITH

RUTH ODIN

BLOG EDITOR

POETRY EDITORS

DANIEL FRIAS

MCKENNA CASEY

POETRY ASSISTANTS

CARA SIEBERT

ZOE J. SMITH

PROSE EDITORS

MIA WEINTRAUB

NATE LIVINGSTON

PROSE ASSISTANT

AVA STERN

PHOTO/FILM EDITOR

LINDSEY MCCORMACK

PHOTO/FILM ASSISTANT

RILEY LUNA FORD

EMMA DIVALENTINO

BLOG ASSISTANTS

EMILY BARNES

MAYSA HAJ-MABROUK

ART EDITORS

ABBY ST. JEAN

THAIS CARRION

ART ASSISTANTS

JULIA KANE

ISABEL CHAPARRO

CREATIVE DIRECTOR

EMMA GEER

DESIGN ASSISTANTS

ALEXA BERMAN

GRACE HILL