The Scrivener 23-24

THE scrivener

EDITOR’SNOTE

Dearreaders,

WearethrilledtoreleaseourfirstprinteditionofTheScrivener!Thereis somethingmagicalaboutseeingourwordsinprint,feelingtheirtangibility,rather thanscanningthemthroughadigitalscreen.Mayyouexperiencethismagictooas youperusethesephysicalpages.

Thisyear,wehavehadalargenumberofnewsubmissions.Iappreciatedthe diversityofnarrativesmanifestedinthesepieces.Whilesomeworkshadan absurd,light-heartedtone,otherscarriedamoresombermessage,of disillusionment,fear,weariness,andtransition.However,manyofthemcarriedan underlyingelementofresilience.Ofreviewing,rethinking,andrenewing.

Thankyoutoallthemagazine'scontributorswhoexpressedtheirinnertaleswith poiseandbeauty.Thankyoutotheeditorswhospenttimepolishingand strengtheningthesepieces.AndthankyoutoMr.Jensforofferinghisguidancein thischaoticyetfulfillingprocess.

Asweclosetheschoolyearandenteranewseasonoflife,wehopethesestories andpoemsinspireresilienceandcompassionwithinyou.Wehopetheyoffer comfortinmomentsofsorrowandloneliness.Wehope,throughthesepieces,you findthecouragetoreview,rethink,andrenew.

Sincerely,

AbigailRinkenberger, TheScrivener

CONTENTS

ADefenseofLife byAydanWong

Rice-StainedSidewalks byAbigailRinkenberger

¿AmIgoodenough? byAnjuTakikawa

FiveSmoothStones byDavidYost

FootprintsintheMarsh byYsabelleWan

GoldenYears byFinleyWhite

Once,therewasacat... byGabrielRoylance

MyShadow byEllenJeon

SunnyBlizard byHsienLerSim

Bolt’sStory byJadynBui

thecriesoflife byJingXuanLeow

SoundsofSilence byJoshConklin

mutedwhale’scry byJoyceWan

TheThunderstorm byNaomiNeiger

it’snotreallyaboutakite byMyraLim

DeathwasComing bySaraVossler

TheBirdthatsangFreedom byOnyouKim

GoldGivesWay byAnonymous

WhenTimeEnds byWonhooShin

TheJourneytoBecomingaConcertmaster bySophiaTeoh

ADefenseofLife

AydanWong

Alongafrostedyellowforest’sfamousforkingpath, Atablestandsamicablywithcalmthatnomanhath. Itslocalroyalarmieswaittochargeandendtheiryield Againsteachother’sforces‘crossthecheckeredbattlefield.

Ihappened, enpassant,onthisgreatstandoffyearsago, Andmarveledatthisskirmishmadeofmonochrometableaux. Byfleetingwhim,Itookaseatthere,facinglegionswhite. Then,suddenly,asoldierchargedtowardsmyarmèdnight.

Thefadedbeigeishsoldiershadasecretuptheirsleeve: Initiative–aprivilegenotallmencanreceive. Andeventhoughmysubparpickofsidesseemednaughtbutchance, Ifeelitwaspredestined,myretorttotheiradvance.

ForeverymoveIsentbackatthephantompaladins, Theyshuffleduptheirbearingstodisruptthebalancing Oflightanddarkness,fightingonthatbloodyspotlessboard, Withdeadlydelicacyliketheedgesofasword.

ButeventhoughWhite’sarmyhadstrategicwhereabouts, FromTemplarsattheready,toahorsemanjoinedbyscouts, Defendingfeltmorenatural,moresimilartolife, Wherecircumstancedoesnecromancethedevil’sgiftofstrife, Tohumankind,toharmthemind,toturnusbacktodust. Andwhenthesehappenstancesrise,wemustdowhatwemust; Weparryeveryfouladvanceonlife’selab’rateboard, Andwitheachmove,approachourgloriousheavenlyreward.

Rice-StainedSidewalks

AbigailRinkenberger

Shedidn’tseetheskyintheirfaces, Sohereyesrovedtheground.Guano Deckedhershadow,ivorybeadsrivaling Thehawkersignthathungfromherbody: Noseatsleft. Mosquitoespiercedthroughthecotton,neighbors Shenolongershunned,usedtotheirmouths Achingforsyrup,theirquietpoison.

Likethemanontherustedbicycle, Wheelscallousedbypotholes, Shegraspedapinkplasticbag, Chickenricetuckedneatlyinside. Theplasticcasecontainedher,the Curvedribsbindingher,liketheiron Swingfromherchildhood.Butshe Doesnotsit,notyet.

Thepowderoffireworksincriminatedthealleys Withthemurderofthenight.Shehadwatched Theirmagentashadowsilluminatethestools Wherestrangerssquatted,rubberbandsaroundsoup, Snappingatthefinalshriek.Seatsleft. Shedoesnothearthesnapofherpinkplasticbag Asthemoonbleedsintotherice-stainedsidewalks, Itsdeathhiddenbythestreetlights.

¿AmIgoodenough?

AnjuTakikawa

Iamtheworst.

Don’ttrytotrickmeintothinkingthat IamgoodenoughatwhereIam Itellmyselfaxiomaticallythat IruinedallthepotentialsandopportunitiesIhad It’salietosay

Ideserveloveandaffection

Afterall, ThestrugglesIwentthroughareallmeaningless Youcan’ttellme Iamagoodperson.

(Nowreadfromtheoppositeway)

FiveSmoothStones

DavidYost

Wherethereisavalley,thereislikelytobeastream.Andwherethereisastream, thereislikelytobesmoothstones.Fivesmoothstoneswaswhatheneeded.

Flashback

“Whenyougatherstones,besuretopickoutsmoothones.Thekindthatthe constantmovementofthestreamhaswornoffalltheimpuritiesandleftuswith exactlywhatweneed.”

Theyoungboyheardwhathisolderbrotherinstructedandquicklyfishedouta stone.Helifteditupandbroughtittobeinspected.“Howaboutthisone?”the boyaskedhopefully.

Theolderboyweigheditinhishandandtheninspectedthestonewithhisfingers tofeelforthesmoothness.Heletoutasmallsigh.“Well,thesizeofthisisfine butitisstilltoorough.Tossitbackin.Letthestreamkeepworkingonitandit willbereadytobeusedsomeotherday.”

Theyoungboytookthestoneandtosseditbackroughlywherehefoundit.He quicklysetouttofindanotherpossiblecandidate.

Withinafewminutes,theyoungboyhadgottenthreestonesapprovedwhilethe olderbrotherhadfoundhisfiveandlaidthemouttodryinthesun.

“Whyisitsoimportantthattheybesmooth?”theyoungerboyaskedcuriously.

“Whenthestonegetsthrownoutofthesling,ifitisevenalittlebitroughitmay getcaughtintheslingandnotgoexactlywhereyouwantitto.Andnoshepherd wantstohavetoslingasecondstoneatalionorbearorwhateverthreattheyare facing.Oneisallyouneed,”theolderboyexplained.

Theyoungerboylookedathispileofthreestones.“Thenwhydoweneedtofind fiveofthem?Surelyoneorthreewillbeenough?”

“Ifyouhavefivesmoothstonesinyourpouchyounotonlyhaveenoughstones totakedownthethreatbutalsotoredirectrunawaysheeporunexpected secondarythreats.Youneverknowwhatwillhappen.Soalwayshavefivesmooth stonesinyourpouch.”

Flashforward

Theyoungboy,nowateenager,wasthankfulforthelessonsthathisolderbrother hadtaughthim.Heprobablyshouldhavethankedhim.Butbeingtheyoungest sometimesmakessomeonelessthankfulthantheyshouldbe.

Ashesiftedthroughthestonesinthestream,hespiedagoodcandidateandlifted itwithhisfingers.Hesmiledtohimselfashehadcertainlygottenbetteratfinding stonesafterallthoseyearsofsiftingthroughstreams.

Heweighedthestoneinhishand,feltitssmoothness,andprayed,“God,youare myrock,myfortress,andmydeliverer.Youwilldelivermefromthisthreatlike youhavedeliveredmefromthelionandthebear.” [a]

Hegrabbedasecondstone.“YouaretheoneinwhomItakerefuge,myshield, andthehornofmysalvation.Itrustthatyouwillprotectme.” [b]

Athirdstone.“Youaremystronghold,myrefugeandmysavior.Youwillsaveme fromtheseviolentpeople.” [c]

Afourthstone.“Forthesakeofyourname,leadmeandguideme.Keepmefree fromthetrapthatissetforme.” [d]

Afifthstone.“Mysoulfindsrestinyoualone.Myhopecomesfromyou.” [e]

Asheplacedthefifthstoneinhispouch,hecouldn’thelpbutsmiletohimself.He wasoncearoughstonethatneededmoretimeinthestreamuntilhewasreadyto beused.Butallthoseyearsofsearchingstreamsforstones,protectingsheep,and findingstrengthinGodhadpreparedhimforthis.

Asheheadedbacktowardthebattlefield,herestedhishandonthepouchof smoothstones.HeknewthatwithGod’shelp,hereallyonlyneededonesmooth stonetoknockdownthegiant.Butgatheringthefivestonesgavehimachanceto findhishopeandconfidenceinGodagainandnowhewastrulyready.Asmooth stonetobeusedbyGodhoweverHedeemedbest.

[a] 2Samuel22:2

[b] 2Samuel22:3

[c] 2Samuel22:3

[d] Psalm31:3-4

[e] Psalm62:5

FootprintsintheMarsh

YsabelleWan

ifinallyunderstoodwhyMahadtoleave–heralligatorshoesdisappearing downthepath andleavingfootsteps noteveryonecouldsee they’daskedme wasitthetide? ordidhefall? andisimplyclosedmyeyes asthejuryjudgedall buti seetheseagullsandthebullfrogs dancingwiththefireflies inmymarshtheycallasecret, thesecretthatheldmine

GoldenYears

FinleyWhite

Theteenageexperience Isaboutthespeedofmomentsyoutreasure, Andthelanguiditywithwhich Yourethinktheminleisure

Thedrowsyreanactments Oftimeslongpast, Thatrunthroughyourmind: Afieldofmemoriessovast

Thewayyourmindtrailsoff Withasmileonyourface, Eventhoughyoucan’tremember Whythejokeswerefunnyinthefirstplace

Theconstantbattlebetweenschoolandfriends AsthestraightA’ssunder, Whichonedoyouprioritize Howdoyoubalancesoyoudon’tgetpulledunder

Theteenageexperience Isfullofmemoriesyouwon’tremember, Andfeelingsthatwillneverleave: Youshouldneversurrender

Once,therewasacat...

GabrielRoylance

Once,therewasacatwhoseownersaidtohim, "Iwonderwhatthemeaningoflifeis,Jim."

Jim,ascuriousasanycatcouldeverbe Thoughttohimself,"Well,IguessI'llgoandsee!"

Sothecatwenttotheyard;hewenttoplayandhunt Tofindoutifthepointoflifewastobehavingfun Butafterdaysofonlyplaying,hethoughttohimself Thiscannotbeit!Itmustbesomethingelse. Sohewenttotheriver,andheaskedalittlefish "Well,whatdoyouthinkthemeaningoflifeis,fish?"

Andthefishhadnodoubt,nodoubtatall, Whenhesaid,"Themeaningoflifeistodiscoveritall! Toexploreallyoucan,andtotravelsofar, Togowhereyouwantto,andreachforthestars!

Butthecat,whohadoncetravelledfarfromhishome, Knewthatthiscouldn'tbe,orelsehe'dhaveknown! Sohewenttotheforestandaskedallthetrees, "Whatisthemeaningoflifetoyou,trees?"

Andthetreessaidtohim,"Lifeistogrow! Lookatustrees.Ofcoursewewouldknow!"

ButJimthoughttohimself,"Thatcannotbe! I'vegrownformanyyears,althoughI'mnotree. Sothiscan'tbethemeaningoflife,nottome!"

Sohewenttoacliff,andheaskedalonelemming, "Whatisthemeaningoflifetoyou,lemming?"

Andthelemmingreplied,inasmalllittlevoice, "Well,themeaningoflifeistoalwayshavechoice!"

Andthecatthoughttohimself,"I'vedisobeyedbefore! Surely,ohsurely,therehastobemore!"

Sothecataskedabeaver,rightdownbytheriver "Whatisthemeaningoflifetoyou,beaver?"

Whoresponded,"Well,goodcat,lifeistobuildTobuildandtobuild,tillthewholeworldisfilled!" "Well,I'vetriedtobuild,"thoughtthecattohimself "ButwhateverIbuild,Iknockofftheshelf!"

Now,thecatwasquitetired,andthenighthadgrowndark Andhestartedbackhomethroughapathinthepark Whilehewalkedthroughthepark,Jimstartedtoponder Hethoughtofhisjourneyandbegantowonder Throughallofhistravels,he’dwanderedsofar Tomanynewplaceswitheachtheirownstars Andyeteachplacehewentto,askinghisquestion Theanswersalldiffered,yetcarriedconviction Sohethoughtlongandhard,aboutwhichonewasright,

Ashewalkedthroughthepark,inthedark,gloomynight

Concoctingananswer,notsomesimpleillusion

Andeventuallycametoafinalconclusion

Withhisproblemsresolved,hereturnedtohishouse

Butforgotallhe’dlearnedwhenhespottedamouse

MyShadow EllenJeon

EverymorningwhenIwakeup, blackcloudsbegintofillmyhead. Lightingstabsandthunderscatters. MyshadowtellsmeIamworthless.

EverynightIgotobed, theworldbeginstoshake. Regretcomestoswallowme. MyshadowtellsmewhoIam.

Everyday,whenImeetpeople, Theireyesjudgeme. Myshadowtellsmenoonelovesyou.

EverytimeItrymybest, Iamneverenough. Ilookaround, Iseemyshadowchasingmedown, Ipushmyselffartherandfarther. Myshadowtellsmeit’stoolate.

Ibecomesmallerandsmaller untilIamgone,andmyshadowtakesover. Noonecanseethroughthedarkshadow. Noonebotherstohearmycries.

Then,alittlesunlighthearsmeandlooksback. Hecomestomeandstaresatmeforawhile. Then,hecriesforme andawarmwindblows.

Hehugsmetightly. Thelighttellsme, Iamhereforyou,always

SunnyBlizard

HsienLerSim

Purpleclutchedthegauntstrandsoffoxfur

Majesticallyliftedintheairlikeanelevator

Bellsringforthetopfloor,thendyehugsanddragsacrossthecanvas

Thedropsflowdowntheblankness

Oceanoflavendersailedacrossthesummitofthetarp

Furcreatesripplesacrossthesunflowerlake

Strokesofsunsetyellowsplitthehorizonandthegroundapart

Agentlebreezeofamberspreadslikeanearthquake

Thebrushsoothestheyellowtobefriendthetranquillilac

Gentlepatsonthenightlyelegantpurple

Scribblinglikeatoddler,thebrushrubsincirclesandovals

Itliftstomakeanotherone,notrouble

Againandagain,likewaterfallbubbles

Divinginthecold,dense,graypuddle

Graypigmentoverwhelmstheseaofpurple

Multipleunrealisticmountainspressintoyoureyes

Armsstretchedout,tryingtoreachthestars

Greentippedarrowshotthepeakandlifecameoutofthedye

Evenadropoflifedancesofar

Thedetailedbrushdrewwhitehouseswithbrickrooftops

Blindgreenjumpsfromthebrushintopatterns

Wavesofserenegrassfieldslikeslenderdrops

Bigstrokeoutwardandinwardsreshapingintoferns

Acarefulslashmakesagreenwound

Boldredsplashesovertheendsofgreenstrandsofhair

Justlikeblurryrosesandredballoons

Andfinallytheartistliftshishandoffthefinalstroke

Amasterpiecejustashehadspoke

Firmlyletthebrushsitandspeaktohisfolks

Asthecreatorstoodanddisappearedinthesmoke

Bolt’sStory

JadynBui

Boltflinchedasthedragonwhizzedthroughtheairinfrontofhim,launchingyet anotherroundofblazingpurplefireballs.Executingawildbackflip,helanded safelyontherocksbehindhimandswunghisswordinawidearc.Blindingflashes oflightning,followedbytheirrepressiblepealsofdeepthunder,flewoutfrom theswordandtowardstheenemy.Thedragontwirledinmidairandwithaflapof itsmightywingsbarelyevadedtheattack.

Boltfelthewasonthebrinkofvictory.Thedragongrewmoreandmore exhaustedeveryminute,andifBoltcouldholdoutjustaminutelonger,hecould findanopeninganddrivehisswordthroughtheedgesofthedragon'swings, disablingtheblackholesinthecenter.

Thedragonrealizedthistoo.FleeingfromBolt’sblade,heshothighintotheair andspunincircles.Ashisspeedincreased,theairaroundhimbecamedistorted untilhehaddisappearedaltogether.Whereheusedtobe,therewasnowonlya portaltoanunknowndimension.

Thedragon’sgreatestpower,andthereasonitwaseveninhisworld,wasthatit couldcreateportals.Banishedfromitsownworldforrebellingagainstitsrulers,it hadescapedtoBolt’srealmandwreakedhavocthere.Bolt’sultimategoalwasto disablethisabilityandkillthedragon.

Becausehehimselfpossessedaspecialstonethatwouldalwaysallowhimtotravel backtohisdimension,hewasconfidentthathecouldsurviveanyworldthe dragonthrewathim.Hepreparedalightningshieldaroundhimselfandjumped upthroughtheportaltofollowhisenemy.

Heemergedina–

Ithrewdownmypencilanderaserandyawned.Iwasdraftingastoryforthe schoolliterarymagazine,butitwastimeformetogotobed.

I’dalreadyplannedtherestofthestory:indesperationtoendthefightonceand forall,thedragonwouldemergeinthedimensionofthemythicalbeingNaurjinn, whohadgivenBolthislightningpowers.TodestroythesourcewoulddestroyBolt forsure.

Suddenlymypapervibratedandpulsedwithblindingbluelight.Istaredin disbeliefasaglowingfigurematerializedinfrontofme.

–Aburstofdustandstoodthere,abitawkwardly,inmybedroom.Hisspiky, blondehairstuckstraightupfromhisheadandendedinseveralspikesattheback. Oneofhiseyes,whichwasmadeoflightning,flickeredslightly.Thelightbounced offhiswhiteclothesandthearmorplatingonhisrightshoulder.Ashenoticed

mehemotionedimpulsivelywiththegleamingkatanainhishand.Iedgedaway, andhedecidedIwasnothreat.

“WhereamI?”heaskedascalmlyashecould.

Istammered,“Well…you’reonEarth.Howdidyou…comeoutofmystory?”

“Story?”Heinquired,narrowinghiseyes.

Unabletospeak,Igulpedandgesturedtothepapersinnocentlysittingonmy desk.

Herushedoverandsnatchedthemup,scanningthefirstfewlines.Suddenlyhe whirledaroundtomeandthrewthepapersontheground.

“Didyou” –Icouldseehewastryingtorestrainanger– “makethisup?”

Inodded.Nowhewasveryangry.“Sohasmywholelifejustbeensomestory inventedbyachild?”

“No,”Isaiddesperately.“Imean,yes–”

“You’resayingeverythinginmyworld,allofmypeople,andeventhedragon,are justentertainment?Howwouldyoufeelifyou,”hepointedatme,“youweretold somebodyjustcreatedyouasatoy?Thatcan’tberight!”

“Asamatteroffact,IdobelieveIwascreated,”Ibeganuncertainly.

ButBoltwasalreadygone.Hehaddashedoutofmyhouseandintothestreet.He wasresistingtheurgetoswingthatswordatmeashardaspossible,andthebest possiblewaytoventthatragewasonthedragon.

Thedragon!IfBolthadcomeintomyworld,sohadthedragon,andwhoknew whatsortofchaositwouldcause!Grippingthepencilthatwasstillsomehowin myhand,Iranoutafterhim.Ihadtostopthatmonster,sinceitwasmyfaultit washereinthefirstplace!

Welivedonawideandquietstreetquiteclosetothelocalpark,agrassyopenarea withsometreesandaplayground.IfollowedBoltashereachedthepark;luckily, nooneelsewasoutsideatthishour.

Anominouspurpleglowshroudedthepark.Tomyhorror,Bolt’sbeastly archenemysoaredoverthetopsofthetreestoconfrontus.Hegrowledandthen, insteadofattacking,begantospeak.

“DoyouseewhyIchosethisdimension?”heasked.“YouthinkIwassoevilto rebelagainstmyrulersandtakepowerformyself.Butwhenyourealizewhoyour ruleris…”Hegesturedcondescendinglytowardsme.

Boltglaredatme,thenbackatthedragon.Webothstoodspeechlessforafew

shortseconds.

“Doyoureallybelieveyoushouldobeythisrandomchild?”Hecontinued.“Just playingwithyourlife,andthelivesofallyourpeople,liketheyarenothing?”

AtthispointIwastooangrytocarewhathappenedtome.Nomatterhow dangerousthedragonwas,Imadeitupandwasresponsibleforit.Icoulddo whateverIwantedwithit,couldn’tI?

“Bolt…”Ipleaded.“IknowI’mnotperfect,butIwantwhatisbestforyouand yourpeople…Mylifeisastorytoo,andI’mgladitis.Howwouldyoulikeitto havenocreator?Thenwouldn’tlifebemeaningless?”

“Thatisalllies!”roaredthedragon.“Withnoonetobossyouaround,youcan makelifehavethemeaningyouwantittohave!”

Myknuckleswereturningwhitefromgrippingmypencilsohard.“Youarethe liar,”Igrowled,andchargedhead-onatthedragon.Ittoweredsomuchtallerthan methatIhadtocranemyneckjusttoseeit.Ileaptupwards,hopingsomehow thatIcouldmatchhisheight.

Ifeltatwitchinmyhandandlookeddowntoseemypencillengtheningandthe graphitepointbecomingsharpassteel.BoltstaredindisbeliefasIrosehigherand higher,untilIcouldseethedragon’sfaceinfrontofmine.

Iraisedmypencil,whichhadbecomeafull-fledgedsword.SomehowIdidn’tfall totheground,thoughnothingsupportedme.

“Youreallythinkyoucanbeatmewiththat?”Thedragonroaredanddrewback hisheadtoroastmewithapurplefireball.

Iswungmyswordstraightatit.Aahugespikeofmetalflewoutoftheswordand throughitshead.Inahugeburstofpurple,itroaredanditsbodystartedto collapse.Theblackholesinitswingsimplodedonthemselvesandsuckedtherest ofthebodyawaywithit,untilallthatremainedwasawispofblacksmoke.

Igraduallyfloatedtothegroundandlandedsoftly.Mypencilwasbacktonormal, asifnothinghadhappened.BoltwasstaringatmelikeIwassomesortofangelic being.WhichIsupposeIwasatthatpoint.

“Well…”Boltbeganquietly.“IsupposeIhavetobelieveyounow,sinceyoujust destroyedthatdragon.”

Ismileduncertainly,stillrattledbywhathadjusthappened.“Iguess.”

Webegantowalkbacktomyhouse.

“Sohowdoesthatwork?”Boltasked.“DoeseverythingImakeupautomatically becomereal?”

“Ihavenoidea,”Ireplied.“Ididn’tknowyouwere…real…either,untiltonight. Butyou’realwaysrealinmymind,andIthinkthat’swhatmatters.”

We’dreturnedtomybedroombynow,wherewestoodcontemplatingthepapers stilllyingonmydesk.

Boltlookedatthestonesetinhisarmorthatwouldallowhimtotravelbacktohis owndimension.“IsupposeIcangohomenow,”heremarkedquietly,“ButIhave somanyquestions.”

“Ifyougohome,”Ireplied,“maybeyou’llfindtheanswers.”

“Youmean– you’llwritethem?”

“Icandothat.I’llneverlookatwhatIwritethesamewayagain.WhenIwrite, restassuredIwilldosocarefully.”

Boltnodded.“Thanksagainforfightingthedragon,”hesaid.

“You’rewelcome,”Ianswered.

Hesaluted,pressedhishandstotheteleportationstone–Iwalkedbackovertothedeskandlookedatthepapers.Onthelastpage,where beforetherehadbeennowriting,itnowread: –andwasgone.

thecriesoflife

JingXuanLeow

irememberthatnight, stayingup‘till5a.m., stressingoverunnecessarythings. icried.

irememberthatnight, pullinganall-nighter, frettingovermyletteredgrades. icried.

irememberthatnight, callingafriendexhausted, lettingoutallthepainhiddeninsideme. icried.

irememberthatnight, gazingatmyreflectioninthemirror, tearingmyselftopiecesbitbybit. icried.

irememberthatnight, grievingoverthepersoniusedtobe, plungingmeintoastateofsorrow. icried.

irememberthatnight cryingabouteverythingwronginlife, feelingnumbfromthepain, andicried‘tillicouldn’tanymore.

SoundsofSilence

JoshConklin

Inmanyquietmoments,Ihear

Thesoundsofsilenceinmyear

Eachonedifferent,distinct,andclear Istopandlisten,sittinghere

Thatsoundofdelicatesituationsdashed

Toomanywordsspokenortoofewsaid Unsurelipsdarenotspeak

Forfearofbreakingfragilemomentsmore

Agapingwidechasmseparatesmeremeters

Oncecalm,theicyvacuumgrowseachemptysecond

Cryingoutforrelief

Thatsoundofdoombeyondsight

Therumblingpremonitionofacomingstorm

Justaroundeverydarkenedcorner

Eachfiberofyourbeingastringpulledtight

Quiveringandvibratingasfeardrawsitsbowacrossyou

Prayingfortheworst,amonster,anything

Thatthisoppressingmistinyourearsdissipates

Thatsoundofdreamsunmet

Yourthoughtsandyoualone

Thesoftpatterofrainonyourcheek

Mixedwithmutethunderclapsofsobs Andwhenalltearsrundry

Thewindscarryawaywhatwas Leavingbehindonlyahusk

Thatsoundofideascontemplated Outside,alliscalm

Inside,thoughtschurnlikeboilingsteam

Jostling,tossing,billowing

Atrainponderouslychugsalongitswindingcourse

Silentcogsturn,noiselessmachinesgrind, Allinsidethechaoticfactoryofthemind

Thatsoundofendlesswaiting

Thedroningbuzzinyourhead

Likeatrappedbeehiveabouttoburst

Therustlingofidlehands

Eagertodo,tomake,tobe

Suppressedbytime’sslowmarch

Totherelentlessbeatof“tick…tock”

Thatsoundofacontentsoul

Ofgoalsachieved

Ofdreamsfulfilled

Oflifeasitshouldbe

Thesoundofsimplecompanionship

Satisfactionunspokenbutknown

Acarefreemelodydriftingonthebreeze

Singingwithoutwords,makingmusicwithoutnotes

Thetreeswhisperitwordlessly

Thewatersmurmurit,tranquilly

Thesunsetswellsitsresoundingchorus

Itschordresonatinginyourheart.

Whenthenoisediesdownanddisappears Silence’smanyvoicesbecomeclear

Donotthinkthequietdullandsevere

Onceinawhile,sitandlisten:whatdoyouhear?

mutedwhale’scry

JoyceWan

youwerebornbelieving intheinfinite andwhocouldfaultyouforwishingso? yourbirthrightlay inthecallofthedeep inthesongofseagullsandtwilightwaves withcoraleyesbright andseas drifting fromcliffsidetomoonriseandoveragain anddespitehavingonlydreamtofyourancestralhome youknowbone-deep itwasinfiniteanditwasyours

but concreteglassandcementwallslock-and-key cathetersandfoamcellsforced proximityandleeringeyeseyeseyes andyouhopeandyouwishtobetheturningtide thelastfadedgenerationscreamingblind–fordreamers evensuchasyou canonlydreamsofarsowide.

TheThunderstorm

NaomiNeiger

Oneminuteshe’shummingasofttune

Adeep,canorouslullabyrumblingquietlyinthedistance. Whenshesings,hervoicecansoothe Yousleepsoundly,slowlybutsurelyslippingintobliss.

Thenextminute,theinkpotspillsandstainstheskydark Thick,greycloudsstretchingnearandfar Youwatchtherainfallastheetherstartstochurn; Herlashesoflightningflashbright,andtheyburn Tensed,wide-eyed,andtakenback;

Youpleadwithher,weepatherfeet,andask:

“Mylady,whathaveIdone?WhyhaveIsufferedthemightofyourwrath–” –andthenCRACK.

Shebellowsbigboomingballads,breakingthebarrierofsound Youbeg,ohyoubeg–

“Drownitout!Oh,thepainisprofound!”

Sheroars,andyou’rechilledtothecore Youjustdon’tknowifyoucantakemuchmoreandthen–Peace.

Thedarknessbeginstoleave; Confused,yougetupfromyourknees.

Shesings, astherainstopsandthecloudsmakewayforsunlight. Youfinallysee.

Gently,shestrokestheskywitharibbonofcolor Youmarvel,inallofitsradiantbeauty.

She’ssmiling.

“Sometimes,”shespeakssoftly.“Youhavetoseethedarkness,inordertoseethe light.”

“Doyousee,mychild?Doyouseewhy?” Youliftyourfaceandgazeintohereyes, “Yes.Yes,Ido.”

Andthesunshinesbrighterthaneverbefore; Youhavenothingtofearanymore.

it’snotreallyaboutakite

MyraLim

asolitarysoulinthevastsky, inisolationitsoars, akiteflies.

itdanceswiththebreeze, agracefulwaltz. inboundlessexpanse, itsdreamsfly withitspaperwingsfluttering, itseekssolacehigh. intheazuresea, weseeasolitarywanderer. ityearnsforcompanionshipand itlongstobefree; itfindsitsechoes,amidsttheclouds itsvoiceisunheard, lostinthewind’sthroes.

inthekite’s solitaryplight, itsearchesforconnection, akindredspirit alas,intheendlesssky, it’sleft behind.

itstailtrailingattheend, oflongingandyearning, ofhopesandfears, thesolitarykiteshedssilenttears. yetthekitestillflies, foreveninsolitude, thelonelykitesoars in boundless space.

DeathwasComing SaraVossler

Thepotionwasnearlyready.

Theoldwizardhadassuredhimthatthisherbwouldbethefinalcomponent. Monthstheyhadtoiled,monthstheyhadgathered,monthstheyhadstirredand boiledandstirredsomemoretillthefrothyliquidturnedsilveroverthehearth.

ButDeathwascomingforher,andtimewasrunningoutfortheoneheloved most.

Time.They’dhadplentyofit,sure.Morethansomeunluckycoupleswhoburied oneloverlosttoosoontofire,tochildbirth,toplague.Buttherewasnever enoughtime,neverenoughlife,neverenoughforeverfortwopeoplewho’d promisedtospendtheirwholelivestogether.

Thewizardpressedthecupintohishands.Heraisedhiseyebrowsasiftoaskif hewascertain.

Hewas.

Heknewwhatwouldhappenwhentheydrank.Whenthefeverhadfirstcome, whenhehadfallenatthewizard’sfeettobegforhelp,theoldmanhadexplained all.Thepotioncouldsaveher,makeherliveforever,even,butitwouldrequirea sacrifice.Thefirsttodrinkwoulddie.Thesecondwouldlive.

Alifeforlife.

Life.Hewouldgiveupeverythingtosavetheonehelovedmost.

Hewonderedonlyhowitwouldtaste,howlongbeforetheeffectwouldcometo pass.Howlongbeforeonewoulddieandtheotherbefilledwithlife.Howlong DeathandImmortalitywouldmeetbeforediverging.Wouldthepotionkill immediately?Orwouldhehavethechancetosayfarewellandplantonefinalkiss uponherbrow?

Heraisedthecup.

Heatradiatedthroughthestoneware.Hispalmsmustberedbynow.Yethe studiedthelinesaroundthewizard’seyes.Howmanywintershadheseen?Surely someonesowrinkledwouldunderstandwhyhewouldstare,unblinking,into Death’seyesandmakehisdemands.

Hebrushedalockofblondhairoffherforehead.Thenpouredhalfthepotion overherlips.Theoldfoolcriedout,butheeasilypushedhimaside.Therestof thepotionwentdownhisownthroat.

Shegaveonelastgasp.Thenherhandslippedoffthebed,fingertipsbrushingthe floor.

Deathhadcomeforherindeed.ButImmortalityhadcomefortheoneheloved most.

TheBirdthatsangFreedom

OnyouKim

Howsadlythousingsthysong! TheBirdbellowsbitterly, ToyouwhosoughtFreedom, OvertheseWalls.

OvertheseWalls, Youbelievedinaworld, AworldFreefromfright.

AworldFreefromfright, Howbizarreitsounds! Forwhomadethechoice, TowipeHumanityout.

TowipeHumanityout, Howabsurditsounds! Thegroundcriesoutinlaughter, AstheWallscrumbledown,down,down–

Havingtakentheblame, Artthouhappy? DostthouhathFreedom?

KillingMillionstosaveBillions, Itwasincumbent,wasitnot? ForitisFatethatdecides, ‘TwasbutaclosersteptoFreedom.

Soarhigh, Highabovetheclouds. Atlast,thouartFree.

Nowourstoryends, Withabittersweettwist, Mayyourestinpeace, ThouwhowastheBird.

GoldGivesWay Anonymous

Goldgiveswaytosilver Silvergiveswaytobronze

Bronzetoironmelts,quivers–“Trodon,”shoutstheworld,“trodon!”

Siltandsandroll,strippedaway Grindingmetalslidesunderneath Blendingtoplastic,manmadeday–“Moveon,”urgesEarth,“moveon.”

Howimmaterialandshifting Thescenewenowperceive

Seeghostsandprojections,fleeting,drifting–“Walkon,”screamstheworld,“walkon!”

Echoesrollfromscarletfountains Ofbeasts,devouring,deflowering Therockmustsurelyturntomountain–“Holdon,”itwhispers,“holdon.”

Oh,howIwishthebattlewasoverandwon! “Holdon.”Ihearwhispers:“holdon.”

WhenTimeEnds

WonhooShin

Whenasparrowfallsoutofitsnest, Doesitcrylikeasongbird, Ordoesitdrownitselfinanearbystream?

Whenthesunrunsandthemoongallops, Whenmemorieswalkaway, Ornamesleaveyourtongue.

Doesyourhandreachout, Andholdyourheartuntilitticksitslasttock, Ordoesyourheartclenchthehandsofaclock?

Forevertimesprintsaway,onwater,itwalks. Butyougetsweptawaybyacurrent, Oryouloseakeyinthestream.

Whenthingsstarttofalluntotheground, Oryouforgetsomethingattheplacebefore, Doyoustopandgobackforthethingyoulost?

Whenthemoonsgrievewithitsglimmeringstars, Whentheskycomesfallingdownonthestillwaters. Whenstreamsfinallystopforyoutoreachdown.

Willyouwalkon,orwillyourestawhile?

TheJourneytoBecomingaConcertmaster

SophiaTeoh

Elegantly,KadenzaPotterbowedherlastnoteofMozart’sfifthviolinconcertoin Amajor.CarnegieHall’sthousandsofaudiencememberseruptedintothunderous applause,andtheHedwigPhilharmonic’sconcertmaster,DylanKim,heldhis Stradivariusviolinandbowed.Hundredsloudlydemandedanencore.Thisday markedhislasttimeperformingtheconcertoinpublicandhislastperformance withtheorchestra.Mr.Kimbeamedattheaudiencewithastingingsensationin hiseyes.Hefoughtbacktearsasheknewhismusicalcareerhadended.Kadenza imaginedherselfinMr.Kim’sshoes–receivingstandingovations,playingvirtuosic pieces,andsoon.

Aftertheunforgettableperformance,themusiciansdepartedfortheirhome,the MusicaComplex.Astheysatintheirseats,MaestroHedwigtappedherfootand repeatedlycheckedherwatch.Then,sheclearedherthroat.

“Dearmusicians,itiswithdeepregretthatIannounceMr.Kim’sretirementfrom ourmusicalfamily.However,allgoodthingscometoanend,andthestepping downofoneleaderpavesthewayforanother.Therefore,Iamexcitedtoshare thattherewillbeanauditionforanewconcertmaster.”

Uponhearingthis,thestringsperkedup,theireyeslikebrightstars.

“Concertmaster?Didshejustsayconcertmaster?”onegirlaskedherdeskpartner.

“IfIamtheconcertmaster,I’llbefamous!”criedanotherviolinist.

“Ah,thatismychildhooddream!”saidKadenza,atingeofmelancholyinher voice.“IfonlyIhadthetime…”

Beforeshecouldfinishherthoughts,Hedwig’svoicepiercedthroughtheorchestra likeasharpknife.

“Musicians,settledown.Thereareseveralcriteriayouneedtosatisfyinorderto becometheconcertmaster.Ifyou’reinterested,herearepapersregarding auditions.”

Kadenzaeagerlypickedupastackofpaperfilledwithinstructionsandaudition excerpts.SherecognizedpassagesfromMozart’slastthreeviolinconcertos, Brahms’sAcademicFestivalOverture,andWieniawski’sPolonaiseinD. Ohno! Maestrochosethemostcomplicatedparts,shethought.Noticingherbulgingeyesand paleexpression,theonlymalefirstviolin,MichaelBechstein,laughed.Knownfor conceitandcraftiness,hewishedtoobtainthisorchestralpositionwithvirtually noeffort.

Acacklerangfromhismouth.Kadenzafroze.

“Iseethatyou,younglady,wanttobeMaestro’spet.Stopdreaming,”hesnapped. “Anorchestralooksbetterwithamaleconcertmaster,notafemale.Ifyou do becomeone,you’llembarrassusall!”

Kadenzafrowned,handsfullwithherviolinandoverflowingsheetmusicfolder. “That’srude.”

“Idon’tcare.I’mbetterthanyou.Listenhere–Ihavelooks.Also,yourplayingis veryoutoftune.Yourtoneisthin,too.Whenyouplay,Icanseethatyourbowis oftenslanted.So,nottobemean,butIthinkyou’llfail.”

Heburstintouncontrollablelaughter.“Anyway,Ihavetogo.Later,”hegiggled, wipingawaytears.

Kadenzahadnoideahowtorespond.Exhalingheavily,shereturnedtoher dormitorytopracticefortheauditions.

Backinherroom,Kadenzatossedherbackpackontothewoodenfloorandshook herhead.Facecoloredabrightcrimson,shestormedtothebed,satdown,and foldedherarms.

“What’swrong,Kadenza?”askedawomansittinginahammockchair.Itwas Kadenza’sfaithfulfriend,Neptunia.ShebelongedtotheFrenchhornsectionof theorchestra.

“Nothing,I’mokay.Ijusttrippedonarockonthewayhere.”

Neptuniaundidherbraids,allowingflowingblondecurlicuestofalldownher shoulders.“Areyousure?Ithinksomethingmoreisgoingonhere.Tellmethe truth;Iwon’tjudge.”

Kadenzagroaned.“Ugh.Fine.Basically,whathappenedisthatMichaelBechstein istryingtoputmedown.Hewantstostopmefrombecomingaconcertmaster.”

“Oh,goodness!Thatsoundsawful.Whatdidhesay?”

“Hetoldmethatmyviolinplayingisbad.I’mokaywithmyviolinteacher criticizingmyplayingbecauseshe’snice.Michaelessentiallycalledmetrash;he mademeloseconfidenceinmyself.”

“Mygosh!Howdarehesaysuchathing,”exclaimedNeptunia.

“That’snotall.Healsosaidthatamansuitstheroleofaconcertmasterbetter thanawoman.”

Neptunia’sbrightceruleaneyeswidened,andhermouthdroppedopen.Kadenza nodded.

“Becauseofwhathesaid,Idon’tdaretoauditionfortheroleanymore.Idon’t

thinkIcangettheconcertmasterposition,”thelattersaid.Shesigheddeeplyand swallowedbacktears.“I’mtheworstviolinistever.”

Neptuniaputapalmonhergoodfriend’sback.“That’snottrue.Fromthefirst noteyouplayed,Ibelievedinyouandknewyouhadlotsoftalent.”

“Nah.Ican’tevergettheconcertmasterrole.Ican’tstraightenmybow,andIcan’t movemythumbwhenshifting,”saidKadenzahopelessly.

“Noworries,myfriend.Everyviolinisthastopracticehardtoachievesuccess. Successneedstimeandpatience.Yourpianoteachertoldyoutohavepatience whenplayingyourpieces,didn’tshe?”

“Yes,shedidsaythat.Ihopemybowwillbestraighterandmyhandmoreflexible. Michael’stechniquesareperfect,butminearen’tasgood.”

“There’ssomethingmyuniversityteacherusedtosaytome.”

“Whatdidheadviseyou?”

“‘Forthesekindsofthings,eitheryouletitputyoudownor…youjustkeep going.’Hehasinspiredme,andwhathesaidtrulyresonatedwithme.”

“Hm…”Kadenzasaid,tiltingherheadtotheside.“That’strue.Whoishetoput medown?Myfutureisinmyhands,andIwanttoreachgreatheights.”

Neptunia’seyesglistened.“Yes!Exactly.Now,Kadenza,keeppursuingyour dreams,don’tgiveup,andyou’llreachgreatsuccess.”

Aflameradiantlyglowinginherbody,Kadenzanoddedresolutelyandpickedup herviolintopractice.

Thefollowingday,MichaelapproachedHedwigandpresentedherwithacrimson gildedbag.Atthesightofthebag,Hedwig’sforeheadfurrowed,andshe wonderedwhatwasinside.

“Openitandsee,Maestro.”

Hedwigdidastold,anduponseeingthecontents,shesquealed.

“Oh,youaresothoughtful,Bechstein!Howniceofyoutogivemetea!”

“Mypleasure.”

“Youknow,Iabsolutelylovemasalatea.Howdidyouknowthisismyfavorite?”

“Well,Isimplywenttothenearbyteashopandrandomlyselectedatinoftea leavesforyou.Iwantedtopurchaseyourfavorite.Thiswasaguess.”

Hedwignoddedandthankedherstudent.Michaelcontinuedthisforseveralmore days,butshedidnotquestionhiskindgestures.

Finally,onaclearday,thetimeforauditionsarrived.Eachcontestantentereda chamber,onebyone,andtheyallexitedwithchatteringteethandtrembling hands.Atlast,afteralltheviolinistsplayed,cameKadenza’sturn.Shehopedwith herwholeheartthathercountlessdaysofpracticewouldpayoff.

“Yougotthis,”sherepeatedtoherself.Justassheinchedtowardstheroom,she slipped!Theviolinistfell,backfirst,ontotheground;herinstrumentnearly escapedherhands. Goodness,Kadenzathought. Iamsouncoordinatedtoday! Nevertheless,despitethemisfortune,sheresolutelycameforthtoMaestro Hedwig.

“Kadenza,wheneveryouareready,begin.”

Withthat,thegirlplacedherfearsasideanddeliveredMozart’sexquisite,heavenly musictoherconductor.Thenotesfromtheviolinwerelikejewels,brightand clear.Kadenza,dressedinabluedressadornedwithlittlegemstonesandbeige flats,movedpassionatelyfromlefttoright.Hedwigwatchedherstudentwithstern eyes,butKadenzatriedherbesttofocusonthemusic.Afewminorerrors occurredthroughoutherperformanceprogram;nevertheless,sheendedwitha smile. Soonafter,theorchestragatheredinthemainlobbytoheartheresults.

“Alright.Iwillannouncethewinner,”articulatedHedwig. Theorchestradeliveredadrumroll,towhichsherespondedwithagrimace.

“MissKadenzaIrisPotter.”

KadenzaandMichaelgaped.Michael’sfaceturnedaflamingvermillion;he clenchedhisfists.

“Yes,Bechstein. She willbetheconcertmaster.Don’tthinkIoverlookedyourpoor manners.Iwitnessedyoudeliberatelyspillingwaterand,thus,causingKadenzato fall.Thatisnotconcertmastermaterial;Iamawardingthepositiontosomeone else.Asaresultofyouractions,Iamdemotingyoutothethirddesk.MissPotter, congratulations.”

Consumedwithjubilation,KadenzascamperedtoHedwigtogivethanks. Suddenly,shepaused. Beingaconcertmasterisn’teasy,shethought. Ineedtopractice. Practicemeansnosociallife.Orsleep.Socializingandsleepingmeansnopractice.Ialreadyhad topracticedaysandnights.Ah,thelifeofamusician…

However,despitehermixedemotionsatachievingherchildhooddream,Kadenza

acceptedthepositionshehadacquired.Grinning,Hedwigpattedherontheback.

“Kadenza,welldone.Iwishyouallthebestandbelieveyouwillleadourorchestra togreatheights.”

“Thankyou,Maestro.WordscannotexpresshowthankfulIamforallyour guidance.”

“Nomorewordsareneeded.Iknowthatyoudeservethisroleandknowthatyou willworkhardtoliveuptoit.”

Kadenzalookedatherconcertmasterbadge,whichbeamedwithagoldensheen. ThinkingaboutMr.DylanKim,sheknewhewouldbeproudofher.Shelooked forwardtogracingthestagejustlikeNoahBendix-Balgley,HilaryHahn,Itzhak Perlman,andotherfamousviolinistshaddone.Thatday,Kadenzahadlearneda valuablelesson–dreamsneededconsistenteffort,butiftherewasnopain,there wasnogain.

Aftermonthsofmusicalwork,Hedwigdeclaredtherewouldbeanother upcomingconcert.ItwouldtakeplaceinVienna’sMusikverein,oneoftheworld’s mostfamousandbeautifulperformancevenues.

“TheprogramwillconsistofseveralpiecesincludingBeethoven’sFifth Symphony,Mozart’shornquintet,Haydn’sFourthViolinConcerto,Brahms’s AcademicFestivalOverture,andsomeotherworksofchambermusic,aswell. Herearethepieces;Iwillpassthemout,”Hedwigsaid.

Everydayleadinguptotheconcertwasarduous;musiciansoftencomplained aboutthegruelingtrainingHedwigimposedonthem.Whatmadeitworsewas thatHedwigshowedlittletonomercyonherstudents,makingthempracticefor longperiodswithfewbreaks.

Eventually,onacoldwinter’sdayinAustria'scapital,theconcertdayarrived. Hedwigandtheorchestraproducedsoundsthatwarmedtheaudience’shearts. Theuniqueinstrumentalpartsweavedtogether,likeanintricatetapestry,tobathe thehallinharmony.Attheend,Kadenzaandthemusiciansgatheredtoplay Haydn’sViolinConcertoinGforasimplefinishtotheday.

TheHedwigPhilharmonicreceivedjoyfulapplauseandcheers.Newsabouttheir concertspreadtofamiliesandfriendsthroughoutthecountryandaroundthe world.Afterafewminutes,amaninabluecoatpulledKadenzaandHedwigaside foratalk.

“Hello,younglady.”

Kadenzagasped.Whowasthisgentleman,andwhatdidhewanttosay?

“Idon’tthinkyourecognizeme,soletmeintroducemyself.Iamthesonof

DylanKim,theformerconcertmasteroftheHedwigPhilharmonicOrchestra.My nameisWolfgang.”

“Oh,wow!AreyounamedafterMozart?”

“Yes,Iam.Mymotheralsocametowatchyourconcert;sheisthere.Mydad, unfortunately,isnotheretowatchyourconcert.Beforeheretired,hewasbattling stage4stomachcancer.Hepassedawayaweekagoattheageofseventy.”

Kadenza’sjawdropped.“What?”

Themannodded,hiseyesastormy,darkbrown.Alongperiodofsilencepassed. “How…”sheuttered,hervoicebreaking.

“Iknowthisisalottoprocess.Weweredevastatedtohearthenews,too.”

“I–Ijust…Whydidhehavetoleavethisworldsosoon?Hehasbeenmyrole modelsinceIwasyoung!”Kadenzafumed,hervoicerising.Filmsofwaterstarted tocoathereyes.Wolfgangofferedtheyounggirlahandkerchief.

“MissPotter,Iunderstandyouremotions.Ifeelthesameway.Butdon’tworry.”

“W-whatdoy-youmean?”shesobbed.

“Heremembersyou.Aftertheauditionsafewmonthsago,andafteryour successfulaudition,Hedwighadtoldhimaboutyoubecomingconcertmaster.He wasdelightedtohearthatandhadheardtherecordingsofyourauditionthrough her.Shehashiscontactinformation.Myfathersaidthathesawpotentialinyou, andfromhearingyourplaying,hebelievedthatyouweretheone.Hewouldbeso proudofyou,werehetoattendyourconcerttoday.”

Kadenzadriedhertears.“Thattouchesmyheartsomuch.Ididn’tknowhe believedinme.That’ssosweetofhimtosay.”Shesniffledandblewhernose, thencontinued.“Thankssomuchforthis,Mr.Kim.Iwillalwaysrememberyour dadandlookuptohimasarolemodel.”

KadenzaandMr.WolfgangKimcontinuedtheirfriendlyconversationforalittle longer;then,sheandHedwigjoinedtheotherorchestramusicianstodepartfor theirhotel.Withfantasticmemoriesplantedinsideherheart,sheheldher conductor’shand,andtheydisappeared,sidebyside,intothedistance.

CREDITS

EDITORS

JoshConklin

OnyouKim

NaomiNeiger

EllenJeon

MyraLim

JingXuanLeow

YsabelleWan

FinleyWhite

GabrielRoylance

JoyceWan

COVERARTWORK

AbbyYeoh

Usingmutedwatercolorandink,"ChineseNewYear"portraysthe complexurbanbuildingsandmarketsofHongKong,Kowloon, withaddedChineseelements,henceit'sname.

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

AbigailRinkenberger

LAYOUTEDITOR

JoyceWan

THESCRIVENER

2023– 2024