Table of Contents Cover + Phoenix Decal: Alexandra Wang Family - Marcus Chiang (3)
Untitled - Ben Nie (38)
Photo by Dorothy Babb (4) Top Hat Duck by Adele Goldader (4)
Starlight - Elisabeth Forsyth (39-40) Art by Fotini Mourelatos (40)
Untitled - Vico Wang (5)
I Wonder Why - Max Marinelli (41)
A Tree’s Reflection - Rebecca Wusinich (6-7) Art by Sydney Bendesky (7)
Smoke and Wrinkles - Colleen Crowley (42)
Untitled - Jack Li (8-9) Art by Alexandra Wang (4) Art by Alexandra Wang (10) Art by Alexandra Wang (10)
Marmalade- Eric-Ross McLaren (43) Photo by Dorothy Babb (44) Art by Fotini Mourelatos (44) Poster by Jade Halpern and Thea Volpp
Fridge Magnet - Tristan Szapary (11-13)
The Woman With The Red Laced Boots - Roma LoGiurato (45)
Primal Barbarism - Dabin Seomun (14)
Untitled - Evan Sweitzer (46)
Licensed - Thaddeus Bashaw (15-17)
Home - Zach Zhai (47-48) Photo by Zach Zhai (47)
Art by Adele Goldader (18) Art by Alexandra Wang (18)
What is Home? - Roma LoGiurato (49)
Graves - Liam Giszter (19)
She Who Makes the Clocks Tick - Dabin Seomun (50)
16 Ways Of Looking At Quarantine (20-21)
As I Sit Here - Max Marinelli (51)
The Zoom Room - Jade Halpern (22-23)
Untitled - Lydia Russell (52)
My Quarantine Thoughts - Jai Smith (24)
Aquarium- Aiden McLean (53)
Hands - Zach Zhai (25)
It’s All A Peaceful Sight From A Distance- Max Marinelli (54)
Those Eyes - Max Marinelli (26)
Yun Tai - Zach Zhai (55-56)
Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune - Anonymous (27-30) Photo by Dorothy Babb (27) Art by Emmet Sun (30) Art by Emmet Sun (30)
Untitled - Carrie Ann Teti (57)
The Somber Lamb and The Innocent Wolf - Dabin Seomun (31)
Lamp by BK Kothari (60) Lamp by Reed Cooper (60)
The Streets of Heaven - Dev Gupta (32-33)
Mr.Wu - Zach Zhai (61-62)
Art by Fotini Mourelatos (34) Art by Adele Goldader (34) Art by Fotini Mourelatos (34)
Costume Design by Sophia Haggray (63)
I Dream That’s Why We Are Divided - Max Marinelli (35)
Art by Dabin Seomun (65) Art by Sydney Bendesky (65) Art by Sydney Bendesky (65)
My Name - Zach Zhai (36-37) Art by Roi Hananel (37)
JUST IN CASE - Liam Giszter (58-59) Art by Dabin Seomun (59)
Old Man Larry’s - Matteo Lewis (64)
Senior Messages (66-68) Bread Boy by Emmet Sun (69)
Family By: Marcus Chiang
W
sense of warmth, like a favorite
resilience of its own and refuses
sweatshirt that just came out of
to be blown over. Sometimes I
the dryer. My sister’s are like his
wish my louder fingers were more
but smaller, covered in cuts and
like his quiet ones. Sometimes I
marker stains, growing, stubborn,
think he wishes he had my louder
happy. Sometimes it’s like each of
ones.
her fingers can be another smaller person, bouncing their way along.
The dog’s fingers are very different from all of ours. They
Mom’s fingers are long and thin,
are warm and furry and soft to
hen I play the piano in the
old and bony, tired from doing
hold, and she likes to put them in
family room or the cello in the
work all her life. The bones that
the air so that you’ll grab them.
library, I always notice my fingers.
stand out keep the five fingers
She’ll hold hands with people and
Sometimes they move smooth
together and make sure they don’t
then roll over for belly rubs
and fast, like performers dancing
drift or fall apart. When
afterward. If more people had her
their way across the stage. Other
something is difficult or hard, her
fingers, we might be happier with
times they’re clunky and slow and
fingers clench together, as if
each other. At least, that’s what I
I get fed up.
they’re hugging each other for
think.
support. My brother also has I have rather short fingers.
long, thin, reserved fingers,
They’re humorous and snappy
fingers used for thinking or
and confident, as if they like their
creating or art. But these fingers
jobs. They don’t remain idle for
have a sort of quiet power in
long, wanting to do something
them, something that sparks with
they want or try something new,
youth and vitality but just under
like an excited child. They are
the surface. The way they move
quite similar to my dad’s, which
reminds me of a willowy tree
are bigger and louder, perfect for
standing strong in a windstorm;
a handshake or a clap on the
although it may look weak in
shoulder that envelops you in a
comparison to other trees, it has a


Dorothy Babb
Adele Goldader
in each section of the fridge. The only thing disrupted the harmony is the apple left in the green section with a bite on it. Somehow this refrigerator makes me feel strange despite its almost
Untitled By: Vico Wang
“
perfectly organized appearance. After I close it and leave the house, I suddenly realize something. If you stand close
It’s not a common type of
enough, you will find that there’s
refrigerators you would see on the
no scratch, no fingerprints, or
market. Apparently it’s too small
even any traces of humans on the
to store food for a family yet too
refrigerator. It seems like no one
big for only one person to use.
has ever used it."
Covered in red paint, the refrigerator is placed in the middle of the kitchen, signifying its importance in this house. There are a bunch of stickers and magnets on it: two colorful magnets saying “Good luck to you” on the left side of the refrigerator, a section from the newspaper talking about the horoscope of April, and interestingly a printed screenshot of the famous Fibonacci sequence. Food, beverages, and ingredients are arranged by colors
the land around me change. There
No matter how long I stare, I am
was once a time where even the
always amazed by the sky’s
slightest hardship warranted me
stunning and changing beauty.
to reach out for help from my
One of my other favorite
friends. If I felt a little hungry,
pastimes is to listen to the birds’
another tree was always willing to
songs. They have wonderful
send me some nitrogen through
voices, but they are also such
the roots. I never worried about
playful creatures. I actually enjoy
an insect attack, because I knew
watching most animals play…
someone else would warn me
except skunks, because they smell
et me start by saying that my
first. Yet, I have seen and felt
bad. (Don’t tell the skunks I said
senses are different than animal
these things change. I could feel
that, though; I don’t want to hurt
senses. I believe it is impossible to
the death of each tree in my
their feelings.) I also have a really
describe to someone a sense they
system. When my roots reach out
good relationship with my fungus
are unable to experience. Just as a
now, the response is significantly
friends. A good relationship with
human will never know what it is
smaller than it used to be. At least
the fungus is crucial because they
like to sense electrical currents
I still get a response. From my tall
bring me food to eat. The meals
like a shark, or how a blind man
position I can see a lot, yet I am
can be slightly repetitive, but
will never know what it is like to
in the largest forested area within
believe it or not I actually prefer
see, I cannot and will not ever
view site. When I look around
food with a bland taste.
know what human senses are
me, I see trees who are isolated
truly like. In return, humans can
and sur rounded by cement
I can’t imagine ever being inside
never know what my senses are
walkways. I worry about them all
and away from the fresh air. Air
like. Nonetheless, I will try my
alone out there.
and wind are a gift from Mother
A Tree’s Reflection By: Rebecca Wusinich
L
Nature herself and I’ll never
best to describe the things I have Sorry, I’m starting to sound all
understand why humans hide
negative now. My life as a tree is
from a big storm; I love storms
actually pretty nice. I spend a long
because they allow me to feel the
First of all, I have been around
part of every day watching the
wind against my body. If the wind
for a really long time. I’ve seen
sky, which is absolutely beautiful.
is really strong, my trunk will even
experienced in terms of human senses.
begin to rock. Swaying in the wind is a rare thrill after long weeks of standing nice and tall. Overall, my life is good. There’s a certain rhythm to my days that allows me to appreciate my surroundings, and for that I’m grateful.
Sydney Bendesky
open, the man rests his attention
handbag for Valentine’s Day yet
on his frequented corner: the box
s h e ’s a s k i n g f o r a n o t h e r
of cold Budweisers. He fishes it
Balenciaga jacket for her birthday.
out just like he did yesterday and
Coupled with the fact that she has
the day before, then cuts off a
been nagging him about going on
slice of the apple pie that always
a trip to the Bahamas, the man
sits on the right hand side of the
realized that there’s less and less
fridge. There’s barely anything
money left in his pocket each
green or healthy inside the fridge,
month, and the travel plan might
it’s just overly sweet snacks
have to be put on an indefinite
t’s 12:00 PM again, the man
organized on different levels and
hiatus.
unplugs his headphones, gets up
corners as well as a dozen
from his seat and heads toward
Budweisers.
Untitled By: Jack Li
I
“Why am I not earning more?” the man frequently
the kitchen. $27.84 is the price of an
wonders. He’s already working
You can call him a creature of
apple pie now, which is up $4.56
under the inhumane “996”
habit, but that’s not exactly
from two weeks ago. In fact,
schedule: 12 hours a day from 9
correct either. It’s not that he’s
everything has become more
to 9, 6 days a week and goes out
just always hungry at this precise
expensive recently, even his
to drink just to please his boss, all
moment, but glancing at the little
favorite imported beer. Could it
this just to exchange for higher
blue clock and seeing the
be due to the trade war with
wages. This is also why his fridge
numbers “1” “1” “0” “0” lined up
America? Regardless, his salary
has almost no vegetables or raw
together just reminds him to
hasn’t gone up in five years. He
meat: he doesn’t have the time or
crave food and beverages. Being
has a picture of his beautiful
energy to cook. When he lies in
hungry is just another step in his
girlfriend made into a tiny magnet
bed he sometimes finds it difficult
unchanging daily routines, and
on his fridge, which he ordered
to breathe, as if something heavy
he’s slowly realizing it.
online a year ago. It’s difficult to
is about to crush his chest bones
keep up with her desires for
and pierce his dying lungs. He
Warm light illuminates the
luxury and consumption: he
takes a good minute sitting in bed
cold stove as the door swings
bought her an expensive Hérmes
when he wakes up just so that his
heartbeat can drop to regular
and saw that the man was in his
levels again. Everything about his
bed, resting peacefully. Even
life is unhealthy.
though his body has reached its limits, his mind was still racing.
But this is the best job
He’s smiling because his spirit is
that he could find, and therefore
truly free now, off to a better
the best life that he could live, as
world.
an average middle-class person in the overly-competitive city. He thinks about quitting and starting over again somewhere he will be treated humanely and paid better, but he realizes that this is just a daydream. Once he leaves this company, he knows that no company will want to hire a 35year-old without an MBA or a dazzling resume any more because they demand higher salaries but gradually have more problems with health so they can’t be as productive. The only future in store for the man is to stay where he is, and follow the exact same routine every single day. The phone rang and rang but no one picked up. His coworkers decided to call the police, who broke into the door
Alexandra Wang


Alexandra Wang
Alexandra Wang
Fridge Magnets By: Tristan Szapary
time of day pierced the drawn
There was one singular magnet
shades into every fold of the
near the top of the fridge that
kitchen, only intensifying the
pinned one tiny clue, the type of
dreadful feeling that the house’s
hint that could only be found if
very foundation comprised of
you knew what to look for. A
one part concrete, two parts grief.
paper business card with a professional but eye-straining font
Lucy’s elbows dug into the
and cr umpled cor ners, the
granite island countertop as they
emblem of the nearby children’s
supported her slouching chin. She
hospital. Lucy wondered if
he kitchen’s dim blue cast did
stared into the void space
anyone in the recent flood of
nothing to uplift the mood of the
separating her from the 90s
guests had been nosy enough to
sullen brick house. It was that
model refrigerator that had to be
remove the cowering card hidden
particular time of day when the
bolted in the wall to keep it from
among the joyful noise of the rest
natural light from windows
crushing its users. If a curious
of the fridge and turn it around.
somehow darkened an entire
house guest were to spend a
They would find the number of a
room. The rays played with the
moment combing through the
certain Dr. Schwartz from the
eye so that couches, clocks, and
magnets on the fridge, they might
oncology department, written
lamps seemed to float just
believe they were visiting the
neatly so that not a single digit
millimeters above where they
happiest household in town. An
could be mistaken. The observant
actually stood, suspended in air
“Aloha from Waikiki Beach”, or
ones might realize that the
but chained close to the ground
the colorful amassing of letters
accuracy of this phone number
so that nothing floated away. The
spelling out “dog” “love” and
was vital to the stability of this
same time of day when an
maybe even a drawn-out “butt”,
suffocating family. Access to
unsuspecting visitor, no matter
or the township’s trash pickup
expedient, expert help was as
how previously joyful or light-
magnetic calendar, or a most
much as she could have done for
hearted, freezes in place upon
recent Christmas card, three
their son, they must understand.
entering the room and shifts to a
smiling school pictures with a sky
Above all, she had to believe her
more morbid state of mind. This
blue backdrop present a very clear
own words if she ever wanted to
shadowy light at this particular
image of a picture-perfect family.
recover from the loss.
T
Lucy stared at the fridge and
These magnets weren’t going to
his pale round face squeezed into a
avoided looking at his cheek-to-
let Lucy forget anything any time
rather large cut out of R2D2 at a local
cheek smile. Maybe in a year, or in
soon.
movie theatre in anticipation for newest
five, the opportunity to see his
Star Wars movie, looking off-screen,
freckled face and remember his
top cor ner dedicated to soccer
most likely at the concession stand
crackly voice would be a blessing.
tournament pictures - blue socks that go
rather than the camera lens, his taller
But right now looking back was
higher than the knee, clutching a
friend filling in the CP30 figure at his
not an option. Or rather, it
participation trophy that still meant the
side with a toothy smile
certainly was an option, and
world to him, local dad/sub-par coach
indeed an inevitable one since his
high-fiving mid-fielder in the back,
Lucy’s heart dropped and her
absence from Lucy’s life cut into
small bags of Doritos and pretzels (of
eyes gave in as the frail floodgates
every corner of her world. Yet it
course paired with a box of grape
she had set up to prevent any
was not a welcome one, not in the
Capri Suns), compliments of coach’s
thoughts of her dear little boy
slightest. She couldn’t help but
wife
from materializing disintegrated
find it curious that our first
fast and hard. She opened the
human instinct after losing a
colorful letters spelling out at most two-
fridge and pulled out what was
loved one is to expend all our
syllable words clustered near the bottom
left of one of the many pre-made
mental energy trying not to think
- the highest ones reaching about two
lasagnas from the local food
about it, which of course is a
thirds up the fridge, as high as he could
market that neighbors, friends,
losing battle. Brain regions tasked
stretch his skinny arms, spotted with
teachers, strangers had been so
with self-protection urges us to
bruises from the IV
kind to bring. She might not be
forget what is permanently gone,
hungry, but a few bites of warm
at least while the wound is fresh.
applaud, laundry, eclipse, snowflake
food would surely give her some
It seemed to her that by the time
among other words on the Week 4
strength.
we have started to heal and
spelling test, given out every Friday -
decided we are ready to honor
two chrome star stickers, which could be
These magnets were nothing
this fallen memory rather than
traded in for a treat once ten were
but pain at the moment. Violent
grieve, all we can do is hope and
collected, sitting happily next to the
stabs from the past designed to
pray that not a single of their
check plus plus at the top of the paper
hurt the already grieving. But they
precious little details dies as well.
won’t always be this bad, thought
Lucy, as she pressed the start button on the microwave. There will be a time where these magnets are all she’d have left of him and his tiny little ways. So she preserved the magnets on the front of the fridge because they preserved him.
“Primal Barbarism” Dabin Seomun
A fat three-legged cat stalks as it yowls “Princess, let’s dance through the night” A pretty little daisy blooms on the gray wall The hungry worms devour it with vigorous might It’s a good day to sell the batch of flowers One by one, they get picked out The ugly ones remain as they weep with sorrow Nobody stops nor notices, or they pretend not to The bat hangs dead from a rotten branch His family now fights with a small snake “He promised me when he was alive” Alas, dead men tell no tales They mix it up and down, down and up Hold, hold, hold, and release They see the little plant spurt out of the small bump Where they have sprinkled their water upon They never wanted this They were fine being alone But what more can they do? Nobody even turns their heads or their eyes with sympathy
I rode this high happily
motion; my realization that I
through the end of my junior
couldn’t stop, my trying to swerve
year, driving to school every day
to avoid the car, a deafening bang,
and parking on 69th street,
a sudden and violent impact to
offering to drive friends anywhere
my chest, a moment of eerie
they needed to go, doing errands
quiet, then opening my eyes to an
for my family. I made driving
entirely new world. Dust glittered
playlists on my Spotify account,
ominously in the air as I felt my
kept meticulous track of my gas
face, which was remarkably
mileage and the number of miles
unblemished. I had a dull pain at
etting my driver’s license
I could get on each tank. I loved
the base of my neck, and the
was one of the happiest moments
driving - one of the places I felt
place where the airbag had hit my
of my life. The embarrassment of
the safest was behind the wheel
chest felt like I had been stomped
asking a parent to drive me to a
of the car, and I would often talk
on, but miraculously I seemed
date, waiting after school for 45
to my friends about my feelings
unhurt. I unbuckled my seatbelt,
minutes because my dad forgot
(something that is very hard for
which hung limp and useless after
that I come to his house on
me) through my car speakers on
my body had been flung against it
Wednesdays, vanished in the blink
my way home from school.
moments before, and pulled on
Licensed By: Thaddeus Bashaw
G
the door handle. I knew vaguely
of an eye, and I couldn’t believe it. I was stunned by how free I
However, this changed
what I was supposed to do; make
felt when I first reversed out of
drastically in June, when I
sure the people in the other car
my parent’s driveway, and for a
slammed into the back of a
were okay, something with
while I didn’t really know what to
minivan on City Avenue and
insurance cards, but I was
do with my new power. I
totaled my car. It was an overcast,
completely dazed and it took me
remember a few days after getting
muggy day, and I was on my way
several moments to realize that
my license, driving to Wawa to
to pick up a friend and take them
my door was not opening.
buy Sour Patch Kids, just because
to brunch, when a car in front of
I could. I was completely drunk
me stopped suddenly and I did
I pushed harder on my door,
on my newfound independence,
not react quickly enough. The
feeling metal pressing reluctantly
and it was fabulous.
events panned out in slow-
on metal, and eventually it gave,
spilling me onto the median of
She eyed me up and down. I
“Yes,” I said blandly, and
the street, where on the other
must have looked bizarre, a wild-
mechanically pulled my phone out
side, cars had begun to inch past
eyed 16-year-old in a Hawaiian
of my pocket and dialed.
the spot where my car sat. It
shirt, covered with airbag dust
seemed absurd to me that people
and shaking uncontrollably. “You
I remember very little of that
were continuing to drive: had they
sure you’re alright?” she asked,
phone conversation, and even less
not seen what had just happened
looking slightly concerned. “Your
of what happened afterwards,
to me? Remembering myself, I
car looks a little worse for wear
while waiting for the police to
hurried forward to see what had
there.”
arrive. I stood on the thin strip of
happened with the minivan. To
dying grass in the median, gazing
my horror, there were two little
I hadn’t yet noticed the damage
helplessly at my wrecked car,
kids, strapped into car seats in the
to my car, but once I looked, it
picturing my dad’s reaction when
backseat. The driver, a short and
held my gaze like, well, a car
I inevitably had to call and tell
kind woman in her late 30s, had
crash. A grotesque mass of
him what happened. Beyond my
gotten out and was surveying the
twisted metal and shattered glass
car and the minivan, traffic
damage to her car. Panicking, I
was all that remained of my left
continued to crawl by, people
hurried to her and started
headlight, and the airbag hung
looking eagerly out of their
sputtering apologies, asking if
limply from the steering wheel
windows to see what had
everyone was okay, and then
like a deflated balloon. I hadn’t
happened, and wincing upon
apologizing again.
noticed it before, but my car was
sight of my car’s mangled hood.
honking feebly, as if in protest of Quietly, she looked up and said
what had happened to it.
“It’s okay. It was a really sudden stop. Everyone’s okay in my car, are you okay?” “Yes, yes of course, I’m fine, I’m just worried about you and your family,” I said in a rush.
Eventually, the police arrived, and everything seemed to move at
“You should call the police and
double time. The bureaucratic
report an accident,” the woman
concerns that had been briefly
said as I gazed at what had been,
expelled by shock and blunt force
mere moments ago, a perfectly
trauma came crashing down
functioning automobile.
around me once more. There was talk of insurance cards, of tickets, of license points. I dumbly
nodded and pretended to
rest of the world unconcernedly
understand what was going on,
continuing without me.
and didn’t even notice when the
Gradually and as necessity required, I returned to driving regularly, eventually chipping in to
policeman asked me to call my
I often have heard my mother,
help my dad buy a used car for
parent or guardian. He asked me
or other adults in my life talk
me, much to the outrage of my
again, rather impatiently, and I
about teenagers feeling invincible,
older brother, who had never had
hurriedly called my mom.
like they will live forever, or like
his own car. The school year
they simply cannot believe that
started again and nor malcy
After this point, my memory
any harm could befall them. I
returned, and though I was much
begins to play tricks on me. I
never really believed that until I
more cautious behind the wheel,
know that I moved my car slightly
felt the illusion lift from me, as I
my anxieties only manifested
down the road to be able to pull
watched the sad, lifeless corpse of
themselves in the occasional
to the shoulder. I remember being
my faithful Prius being dragged
panic-stricken, cold-sweat dream,
somewhat surprised that the gas
unceremoniously onto the back
always culminating in me sitting
pedal had absolutely no effect on
of the truck.
bolt upright in bed, my dogs gazing sleepily at my chalk-white
the car, and that it was gravity that enabled me to move it at all.
I didn’t drive for two months
After I limped the car around 30
after my accident. Part of that
yards down the street, the police
was due to the fact that I went on
officer decided to call a tow truck.
vacation to Europe for three
It was around this time that my
weeks, but the underlying reason
mom arrived, and after ensuring
was that I was scared. I had, even
that everyone was okay, I got in
if for only a moment, been
the front seat in her car and we
exposed to my own mortality. It
drove home. My mom insists that
was a humbling experience, to see
she had gotten to the site of the
myself as being as fragile as I
accident within 15 minutes, but it
truly am, and being aware that, no
felt like half the day had passed as
matter how much it might feel
I stood there on the median, the
like it, I am not invincible.
face.


Adele Goldader
Alexandra Wang
“Graves”
Liam Giszter
Not a trace Gotta find a way Keep the empty space Erased Nothing left to say Not a trace A painted face Your life story astray Keep the empty space The thoughts you chased Fleeing into day Not a trace If every breath was a waste As it seems it may Keep the empty space I’m tangled in your lace In the dirt you lay Not a trace If I can’t keep the empty space
Let go, cancelled, postponed
“16 Ways Of Looking At Quarantine”
We are alone yet together. New, unpredictable, surprising We never know what's around the nearest corner
It gets dark at the same time
Blame, Hate, Accusing
and the hours rush by
We need to take our anger out somewhere.
slowly but so quickly as time repeats itself over and over again
This month has only felt meh
creating something that is real and yet is an
And don’t try to convince me that
illusion itself
This is something weird to occur Because if you take a look at my life,
Morning
It's only normal
Jeans, t-shirt, slippers, Bed hair
The clear scent of the spring air
Uniform
looms through my open windows, beckoning me, tempting me to follow.
We stand side by side
The world continues,
yet feet apart
while we stay stuck.
never been so separate yet connected more than ever
I flew like an egret from nearing winter
My friends aren’t there,
find a way to the South.
I have long hair that I cannot bear,
To find a shelter
but as I sit here and stare,
and a bird keeper.
I dream of the fun that will be had, when life is no longer sad.
Simple repetitive days Lack of motivation leads to unproductive ways
nobody understands really what life is about
Missing friends and missing school
the only one that understands... close to real
I miss life before corona ruled
by following its heart you would not expect
have you ever taken off your mask
it is the woodpecker aloud
just for a moment
listen carefully what you hear
and revelled in the sharp spring air?
knock knock knock Some days Among rows and rows of houses,
I feel like it's the best thing that's happened to me
the only thing moving is the wind of despair.
Other days
I feel like it'll never end I no longer stand by, I hope for the sun to rise, a cloudless night. I hope the warm spring wind will arrive. though there is still light in the dark, I´m not sure why, I believe my summer dream will demise. I´m like a lost seabird, far away from my native shore. when will it arrive? The wind that I adore. Lion´s fight, eagle´s might. my dream will still demise. Like a record player Singing for decades Suddenly Cease Lots of people in the family Stopping by Scrutiny Seeking for help Being stuck in a boring routine, thrown out the door to look at some green, buying toilet paper while making a scene, this is quarantine. THE POETS: Zoe Alter, Terry Guerin, Sadie Forman, Lucca Fratone, Bente Gehler, Edward Lobel-Clark, Hope Lane, Niko Krontiris, Mira Levine, Charlie Liu, Jace Anderson, Lindsay McVail, Afreen Samuel, Sam Ya, Judy Zhu, Emmett Sun
was wrong. It was only little things.
room, but I don’t hear anything. I
I’d be sure I was paying attention,
just watch the green pulse of the
but on Zoom it looked like I was staring down at my phone. Or I’d catch myself tucking my hair
The Zoom Room By: Jade Halpern
better at reading lips. People tend to
behind my ears in the viewfinder,
think what she says is smart. My
but my bangs were still crowding
classmates write something nice to
my vision where I sat in my seat. I don’t really play with my hair. Or
A
microphone icon. Maybe if I got
maybe I do, or I started to, since I
me in the chat, or the Clapping Hands Reaction shows up in the
t first, I figured it was just lag.
was looking at my video feed so
corner of their screen. I texted a
Then, I thought I was getting
much. It makes you something
friend about what was happening.
confused about the mirroring of
self-conscious to see yourself like
the video. The way FlipGrid
that, I think. At least, it makes me
reverses the left/right in your
that way.
saw that some of my friends were
followed her instructions to wipe my hard drive and redownload the
video always confused me, so I figured Zoom was the same. I also
She told me, “That’s weird.” I
The differences did start to
app. My friend kept talking about
get bigger. I didn’t think they
“cookies.” It didn’t work. There I
would, but then they did. It’s never
was, grinning on the computer
quite what we predict. Or what I
screen no matter how much I
to all this technology. I mean, I
predict, at least. Maybe it’s what she
screamed in my chair.
don’t know why I tried fixing it
predicts. The little video she that’s
with the Green Screen thing, the
me. Anyway, I’d get up to shut my
easy these days). I had French class
door and come back to see myself
at 9:30. Madame emailed me at
still sitting in front of the camera.
10:00 to thank me for the valuable
She started talking eventually. I
contributions I’d made on Zoom,
don’t know what she says; Zoom
and to remind me, once again, to
insists the audio is coming from my
brush up on the subjunctive. I woke
using Virtual Backgrounds, so I checked to see if I’d accidentally turned that on. I’m not really used
problem wasn’t my background. It was myself. Really, you wouldn’t even have noticed it at first. I think I watch my little icon too much, and even I wasn’t sure that anything
One time I overslept (that’s
up at 10:13. I think she’s more confident than me, this little Zoomself, and I guess that helps in French. Maybe it wouldn’t be so
pinpricks in my hands, like the tingle after my arms fall asleep. I sat at my desk again. The plastic chair
bad if it was just me. I mean, it
was cold. My laptop was dead. I
could just be me, but I can’t be
dragged my palm across the screen.
sure, right? That’s what’s hard
I closed my eyes. From behind the
about it. I wonder if that’s really my teacher I hear through the
red streaks I’d left, shimmering
speaker still, if it’s really my best
under the black glass, I was still
friend eating lunch in her beanbag
peering out, smiling like the devil
during class. I wonder if they’re on
herself.
their laptops too, watching this unfold, if they’re still there at all. I tried asking at first. I texted everybody to see if the same thing was happening to them. How are you supposed to ask someone whether or not they’re feeling like themselves these days? Everybody agreed that these are strange times. I broke all the mirrors in my house. Then I stood on the stoop, my little limit, where everything was six-feetaway still, and held out my arm. I let the shards of glass rain onto the concrete. They left bloody
I can get some fresh air, however
“My Quarantine Thoughts”
The feeling of wanting to stay inside
Jai Smith
Vs. being forced to stay inside, it’s a different feeling, which makes the whole idea of I am always busy
being home, not seem so great as when I was always
Whether it’s homework, sports, my
busy
outside activities I never really appreciated being outside
I was always busy Unfortunately, now I’m always bored
I never really appreciated being outside
But when this quarantine is over, without
I felt because I was always busy
a doubt I will have a much better appreciation for
Whenever I had the chance to stay inside
being outdoors on my first day out
I would always take that chance I would always take that chance Even when I was free and was able to go outside I decided to stay inside because I liked to have a break from my hectic schedule A break from my hectic schedule It’s a nice feeling It’s relaxing and chill but During this quarantine During this quarantine I gained a new appreciation for being outside I gained a new appreciation for my parents having jobs, a new appreciation for the life that I live A new appreciation for the life I live I’m still able to get my education, even though it can be annoying, and I'm still able to get easy access to places where I can exercise and I can get some fresh air
but they will only bring you
easily, like plasticine. You could
warm.
shape them whatever you want, and create anything with their
Hands By: Zach Zhai
M
My dad’s hands are thick and
flexibility. You can see infinite
small. They are small but strong,
possibilities from them: playing
with some stubborn cocoon on
piano, drawing, making origami,
his palms, like old rocks from soil.
and so many other things waiting
They always seem so weak, but it
for me to discover.
contains more power than you could imagine. You may think
y mom has two big hands,
rocks are less useful than knives,
with fingers long and swift.
but when you use a knife to cut
Mom’s hands are always cold for
rock, the knife would always
some reason, with nails sharp and
break. They are steady and
fine like knives. They are the kind
reliable, even small, when you
of knives that are sharp enough
hold them in your hand, you can
to protect from dangers and keep
feel the toughness, you know that
you safe, knives that could turn
they are unbreakable. They could
some ordinary pakchois and beef
also be rough sometime, when
into some beautiful dishes for
you rub his palms, the old cocoon
dinner. They are decisive and
will remind you of his
efficient, as if they will always
obsolescence, like a fossil coming
evolve with time, renew their
from the past that refuses to
shape into the most tartness kind,
change.
and never get blunt, never will become outdated. They might
My hands are long and soft,
seem harmful, but you learn how
and most importantly, very
helpful they are only when you
flexible. It’s mainly because I play
use them. The features are cold,
piano, all the practice has enabled them to change to any shape
“Those Eyes”
Max Marinelli
And how could he forget those eyes: A deepest blue and at once gray. No matter how he tries and tries To capture them, they slip away. He stares deep and she stares back, For this is the way they dance; All of his futures, she unpacks, With her ever-loving glance. His mind’s a constant wanderer, ‘Til he slips into those lovely ponds. He’s known he grew quite fond of her— But this is love, it’s far beyond. And they fit her face perfectly, As if there was no other way. She doesn’t speak, yet certainly, Those eyes assure him he’s okay.
my lilac colored curtains, I
t h e w i n d ow f r a m e we r e
could feel her gentle fingers
shaking, trembling under her
graze my neck, with intentions
touch. As I began to slowly
to make me turn around and
turn back around to my
look to the window which my
disorganized desk, covered in
b a c k w a s c o l d l y f a c i n g.
inches of paper, in loads upon
Choosing to ignore her, I
loads of ink forming the
looked back at my computer
shapes of letters, I felt her
Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune
screen, ‘Writers’ block will be
strike my nose. I had been hit.
the death of me,’ I thought.
Hit with a fist of air, the light
‘
And there it was again, but this
changed, I could smell the
time with a bit more force. The
dandelions, off her wrist, the
wind’s gentle, yet firm hand
grass on her translucent skin.
taking some of my curly hair,
The air shifted, and I found
and looping it around her
myself within a few seconds
fingers, pulling it in the
running downstairs, rushing to
direction of the window. Softly
the backdoor of my house, no
tugging on my hair, I could
longer caring to wait another
hear her voice, smell the rose
day to go outside. Ripping the
petals on her breath. And there
door open, I was greeted with
it was, the voice, nothing could
the most joyous of hugs from
better describe her voice other
non-other than she.
Dorothy Babb
By: Anonymous
This, is new.’ I thought,
‘Surely, the window was not left open before I had started working on the novel.’ It was a soft, breezy day today, the gentle winds were drafting in the faint scent of strawberries, the wall in front of me was slowly turning from a dark blue to a baby blue hue. Taking my glasses off, I noticed how tired I was, I had been working on an important paper, granted it was the beginning of summer break, I needed to get everything done. Today should have been just another day of me getting work done, yet something was amiss. Out of nowhere, I heard the wind’s gentle sigh blow through
t h a n s ay i n g i t c o n s i s t e d completely of a symphony of music.
Looking around, I saw how alive everything was. The trees were such a green, emerald, I
It was a simple word anyone
do not think I will ever see any
can say without much
painter nor artist be able to
concentration, yet her alone
replicate such vivid greens.
saying it, gave me enough
Everything was breathing, in
shock to turn around. “Come.”
and out, and I was the most
Turning around in shock, I saw
privileged being to inhale such
nothing but a bright and empty
sweet nectars of scents. She
room, the curtains surrounding
was wearing the sky’s joy as a
dress, wearing the freshest
melted as I continued to hold
flute? But how unusual the flute
flowers as her bracelets, the
her slightly chilly hands.
was, for only a few notes into
stars as her necklace, and I
Everywhere she stepped, the
its piece and I was already
immediately felt inferior, for as
ground would glow, the tiny
convinced it was a piece of
beautiful as she was, I was in my
flowers of red, blue and pink,
admiration of some kind.
nightgown, feet as bare as a
would all rise, as though to
Turning my head, I noticed I
bobcat. Yet as embarrassed as I
catch her falling feet. Making
was no longer in the same spot.
felt, nothing could make me feel
sure her soles had a
I had closed my eyes too. The
more secure than her smile, so
comfortable meeting with the
wind was gone, leaving one of
warm and bright. Not nearly as
ground. Smiling to myself, I
her flower chain bracelets
bright and fierce as the sun, but
closed my eyes and took a deep
behind, and I was alone to
more admirable than the moon
breath. Letting all of her scents
myself. With no one for
that I spent so much time
waft into my nose, but there
company’s sake but the solo
adoring at night.Wasting no
was nothing alarming about it
flute. It was so enchanting, but
time, I let her take me by the
whatsoever. There was the scent
soon, I could hear it growing
hand. The grass was dancing
of sweet, crisp, green grass, still
faint, and fainter, as though the
amongst her heels, her laughter
wet from the early morning
player were walking away, but
echoed through the trees. After
dew. The aroma of ruby red
there were no footsteps to be
taking a few steps forward, I
roses, fragrant and blush,
heard whatsoever. Slowly, but
found myself looking back,
growing more and more rosy as
surely, the sugary music was
looking behind.
the sun continued to rise higher.
nearly completely g one,
The smell of baby’s breath, of
vanishing over the trees and far
I could only see the tip of
freshly cut bark, cedar wood, an
away. Not wanting to hesitate
the roof of my house. The
old oak tree, and then there was
any longer, I felt my feet take
thick trees green were already
that free sound.
flight once more and my hands work with their arms to comb
shielding all corners of my house, I could no longer see the
Opening my eyes slowly, taking
through the thick patches of
color of its bricks. There was
a slight break from smelling her,
bush. Going through the
no fear though, anything even
I heard it again. The gentle coo
mighty jungle that was this tiny
remotely similar to that of fear
from what sounded like... a
forest to find where the
mischievous flute was coming
various hairstyles, from buns to
through them, only wanting to
from.
ponytails. Each was laughing at
hear more of the honey that
each other and lying in the
was his music. That boy’s music,
My ears on high alert,
g rass, yet it was not as
I know it was his. The next
ignoring the wind’s clawlike
astonishing, as beautiful as they
moment, I forever shall curse
gestures, and playful nudges, I
were, compared to the men.
myself for.
stumbled around the forest,
The music makers were all men,
very soon hearing the sounds
of various body types, different
of not just one flute, but an
colors.
entire orchestra of music. It was
I was so caught on, so in the middle of euphoria, that I did not notice my fingers slipping,
coming just beyond two large
From deep browns, to
losing their grip on the sharp
bushes, slowly, with both hands,
dazzling tans. None of them
bush. My feet had lost their
pushing the bushes apart, the
were lighter than tan though,
footing as well. I fell forward, I
wind at its strongest, I saw
and all were either very bulky, to
could feel the wind attempting
beauty I don’t think my eyes will
lean. Yet all were incredibly
to catch me in her non-existent
ever be so graced as to witness
handsome and played some sort
arms, I was anticipating to be
ever again. There, was a
of instrument. From stringed to
caught by the grass, but instead,
clearing, with soft looking grass,
wind. All were playing together
I met warmth. I could smell
and a small waterfall with a tiny
in an enchanting orchestra,
sweat mixed with the nectar of
pond in the middle. The falling
none missing a beat, none
various flowers from lilies to
water looked like tiny cuts of
taking a moment to look my
honeysuckle that lingered on
gems landing into soluble glass.
way either. And there was one,
the arms of this person, I felt
In the clearing, surrounding the
with the curliest and darkest
my eyes linger downwards, and
pond and waterfall were around
mop of hair I had ever seen,
instead of seeing feet, I saw
20 beautiful tall, slender, flaxen
standing in the center, back
hairy legs, and hooves. Like that
haired women. With white,
facing to me, playing something
of a goat, a white haired goat.
long, satin looking dresses.
so passionately, so devoted. It
Looking back upwards I made
Each had a different styled set
made my fingers instinctively
eye contact, looking into the
of sleeves. Their hair was at
curl around the bush, not
deepest set of brown eyes I had
different lengths, all made in
noticing the large thorns cutting
ever seen. So dark they were,
darker than any of the tastiest
and then looking behind, to see
chestnut I had ever befallen on.
her waving back at me, smiling
More full than any of the
with such a big grin. As we kept
harvest moons to date. I could
walking, the sun continued to
feel the instant blood rushing
set, I found myself becoming
from my heart to my cheeks
more and more heavy, the sense
and he smiled at me, his
of being tired reaching my feet
eyebrows were large and as dark
faster than anything else. And as
as his hair. Grabbing a hold of
I began to fall asleep in the
his arms, I tried separating
boy’s arms, I woke up to a rising
myself from his grasp, wanting
sun, in my quiet room. My
to immediately go back home,
room of strawberries, grass, and
wanting no more of this, but
now lilies and honeysuckle.
then I felt the sensation of
‘What an amazing adventure of a
pushing, and I turned to see
dream...’
Emmet Sun
her. Everyone was watching as well, whispering things to each other in a strange and foreign tongue, unknown to me. And she was on the other side, all alone to herself now. My one and only friend, the wind, with such a sad smile on her face, the sun’s sunset making her tears gleam like gold, she was pushing me forward, into the boy. Edging me to go on, taking the boy’s hand, I walked on, every now
Emmet Sun
“The Somber Lamb and the Innocent Wolf ” Dabin Seomun
The deed is done swift. Silent. Cleaning its claws, The misty black wolf in sheep’s clothing snarls At its prey as they thrash, flee, and run from them. On the wolf ’s back sits a little lamb who wears the skull of a wolf. Blood drips from the wolf and he lashes out. Alas, His tantrum is stopped by a snowy lamb as she takes The thumping heart from the wolf ’s canines, Then gracefully and softly squeezes the life out of it. The hunt is forever, and the wolf is pleased. The more pleasure he feels when his victims try to escape them. But when their victims are willing to embrace them The little lamb mercifully does the deed instead. But since everything must meet them, everything shunned them Feared them, hated them, and longed for their demise. And even those who reached out to them only faded away by their tooth and nail. Thus, they were so lonely that they promised never to be apart. Black and white mixed into a murky unpleasant grey lurks the world Seeking its next target that is fated to meet with them. But sometimes The colors shine with grace and love. After all, They also grant true, indiscriminate ends to everything. Never alone Without the other. Together they shall pursue Their eternal hunt, their murderous duty, and their everlasting hunt.
casts a shadow on not just the
of individual struggles. By losing
United States but humanity as a
these interactions we have lost
whole, it is of great importance to
something incredibly precious. In
look for that light.
this expansive storm cloud, it is hard to find the light. Instead of
The world has faced crises of
taking the time to look, people
great magnitude before, most
instinctively rush into the safety
notably the World Wars. What
of their own homes, with the plan
differs between how we confront
of not looking upwards until the
a war and a pandemic is the one
storm has passed. Yet it is those
hen darkness falls on a
characteristic that makes us
who do look up to see the light
cloudy day, it is natural to look up.
human, that makes a society a
who will be remembered, it is
Yet as soon as someone sees a
society, the thing that many of us
they who are lessening the strain
grey storm cloud that seemingly
have previously taken for granted:
on humanity, who are magnifying
spreads across the whole sky, it is
physical interaction. In times of
the light and reminding us of the
natural to look away. If they were
war, people have sought relief
human potential.
to keep looking into the horizon,
from their emotions through
however, if they were to gaze
gathering with their friends,
In one of his wartime speeches,
over the expansive land towards
families, and neighbors. Towns
Prime Minister Churchill said,
the corners of the world, if they
organized events so citizens could
"Never was so much owed by so
were to search for just a moment
come together to partake in
many to so few". This holds in
over the vast plain of the sky,
activities that helped thin the
our current times once again. As
they would see the light breaking
foggy gloom. Now, as people are
most people must take shelter in
through like water in a cracked
quarantined, this is impossible.
their houses with the hopes of
ceiling. T hey would see a
No longer can towns host events
limiting the vir us’ spread,
fluorescent outline. In a time like
to lighten the mood, no longer
healthcare workers, ser vice-
this, people tend to look at just
can neighbors and friends
people, and leaders are doing their
the grey, entirely missing the
comfort each other with hugs and
best to help the outcome of this
gleam of the rebellious light
warmth, no longer can
pandemic. Moments like this
breaking through. As COVID-19
communities share the burdens
bring out the best of people.
The Streets Of Heaven By: Dev Gupta
W
Health care workers rush in to
fill our hospitals and homes with
help others at the expense of
hope, a chance to strive. Some
their own safety. They run into
have even given what Lincoln
places where people are sick and
called “the last full measure of
they fight for every life. Many of
devotion”, their light to kindle the
these workers have families at
flame of others.
home, families they can not see without putting them at risk,
So those who take a moment
families they love. These are the
to look up at the light, to view the
people who radiate the most
heavens, will see that the streets
revealing, the most powerful, and
of heaven are full and the path
the most meaningful light. These
ahead is illuminated. This path is
workers, and humanity as a whole,
of friendship, love, community,
are going up against something
and teamwork. It will allow us to
that seems invincible yet they do
work through our differences and
not flinch. Even with this
to turn this tragedy into
daunting task, they have managed
something amazing, a chance to
to slow the virus and change the
unify. No matter how gray the
world at the same time. ”[E]very
cloud, you can still see a rainbow.
time we think we have measured
Take a moment to look up. See
our capacity to meet a challenge,
how bright the light from above
we look up and we’re reminded
really is.
that that capacity may well be limitless”(The West Wing). They look up - up to the light and even beyond it. They look to the blue beyond the gray and the stars beyond that. Healthcare workers, medical students, and the good Samaritans of our communities
 
Fotini Mourelatos
Adele Goldader
Fotini Mourelatos
“I Dream That’s Why We Are Divided” Max Marinelli
I know a lot but I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel inside right now: When the present world is full of gloom, And the only end in sight is doom. It’s curious that when I’m grounded, My mind’s runway is soon surrounded By dreams for a day’s return again, Yet never for points that I ascend. It’s caught the world amidst a pause, Though not for a triumphal cause— Our cry a whimper, fading out, For minds have been clouded by doubt; It’s brought new volume, definition, Shown separation to be our mission, Still, half of us are undecided— I dream that’s why we are divided. While antidotes may arrive in years, The honest cure falls upon deaf ears; If selflessness rings quite familiar, That world’s not ours, not even similar. .
My Name By: Zach Zhai
I
aurora high above the sky, or
traditions were considered to be
something from ancient books
useless and outdated, everything
and have some very complicated
needs to be “renewed”. These old
connotations like benevolence or
patterns were of course
zen. At the end of the day,
encouraged to be removed, and
dreams are still dreams, I feel like
unwillingly, my g randfather
I never seriously think of
changed his middle name to Peng,
changing my name. I never liked
the name of a huge eagle from
it, but it's still my name.
the myth that forever lives in the sky. He then named his children,
never liked my name. My first
Dad once told me this story
my dad and my aunt both by
name ⻘青Qing in Chinese means a
of our names when I brought up
things that belong to the sky, Lei
color mixed with green and blue.
my dissatisfaction with my name.
the thunder and Yu the rains, as a
The color of pure jade that
In the past, that is when my
way to succeed the genealogy
goddess used to scrape the sky in
grandfather was young. We were
without the middle names in
Chinese myths, the color of a
still following our genealogy to
pattern. My father was going to
small pond in summer that
pick the middle names for the
name me Xing which means the
reflects the blue from the sky and
next generation, that being said,
stars in order keep the heritage of
has green algae underneath, the
every generations’ middle name
the “sky”, but with my last name
color Claude Monet used the
has to follow a certain pattern
Zhai, it sounds the same as
most in his painting Water Lilies
created by the ancestry of the
another word Zaixing, calamity.
and Japanese Bridge, the color of
family hundreds years ago. In the
Since calamity is too awful to be a
restfulness in traditional Chinese
family of Zhai, the pattern was a
name, my mom then suggested
painting. It’s the most beautiful
poem written by an ancestor, and
using another word that sounds
color, but it's just a color, and it’s
all the middle names have to be
similar, Qing, the color that
too simple for a name.
picked from that poem. My
comes from blue the color of the
grandfather used to have the
sky, and that eventually became
I used to dream to change my
middle name Tian which means
my first name.
name to something more
the sky, but during the time of
meaningful, like nebula and
Cultural revolution, all old
“But Qing never belongs to the sky!” I argued. “Then, you are the falling star from the sky.” Dad replied with a smile. I couldn’t stop thinking about the words, the falling star from the sky, the falling star……
Roi Hananel
“Untitled” Ben Nie
On a clear night The birds and the fish are not moving That round of moonlight is soaked in the deep river water Is it their dream or is it my dream At this moment My body and mind are clear Except for the piano in the boat There is no harassment of anything I sit alone The seven silver strings on the piano are my most intimate friends And my both ears are his bosom friends When the tranquil and natural voice melts into the sea of mind The whole world is eternal and beautiful. Who knows When is ancient When is now
the straps digging into my skin til
You leave soon, and you cry to
I bleed. It hurts to know that I’m
me that you don’t want to go. I
the reason you’re like this, the
can’t help you, I can’t save you,
reason you can’t trust. It hurts, it
and we both know it. But we’re
hurts, it hurts. But my hurt
selfish people, so you come to
doesn't matter, does it? It doesn’t
me and I can’t push you away. We
matter, and I don’t matter. Oh
spent that last night tangled up in
but you my dear, you matter. My
each other, so close yet still too
light, my star, my dawn, you are
far. Dawn will come to whisk you
more important than you realize.
away soon, my moon. You stare
t’s almost too easy. The way
Not just to me, never just to me.
into me, where no other can go.
your face crumbles, your body
You’ll never be mine, not when
You worm your way into my
shakes, your eyes water. It’s
you have the world within your
heart, and it only beats for you.
almost expected, the way you
hands. It hurts that these are the
But you cannot have it, and I
react. I shouldn't know to the
paths we must walk.
cannot have yours. You know
Starlight By: Elisabeth Forsyth
I
this now, know why I push you
second how you react to being hurt, I shouldn’t know how to
You are the most important
away. You’re angry, I can see it in
hurt you so. You shouldn’t be so
thing in my life, and I’m a selfish
your eyes, but you know you
predictable to me. I suppose I’m
person. I shouldn’t even be
can’t dwell on it. You know why I
no better, am I? The mask I wear
around you, but you’re like a
didn’t tell you. My pearl, you
is cracked and worn, but damn it
drug. One taste and I’m gone,
shine in the moonlight of our
still holds. You know the instant
one look and I’m spiraling. I’m
last moments, and you cry. I cry
I put it back on, the moment I
amazed I’m not dead yet, but I
too, knowing this is the last I’ll
hide again. I see it in the way
suppose it’s probably your doing.
see of you, and I hold you
your eyes glint, your shoulders
You shouldn’t care about me
tighter.
tense. You know me as well as I
starlight, you’ll only get burned,
know you, but here we are again.
don’t you see? We aren’t meant to
They take you away in the
be, no matter how you wish it.
morning, but you do not fight. I
It hurts you know? It hurts to
You must be alone, or we’re all
see the fire in your eyes go out,
hurt you. It hurts to have to
doomed. But still here I am
and I know mine are the same.
place my mask on day after day,
tempting you, and I’m sorry.
You walk away from me, the very
picture of a queen, and you do not turn back. You do not glance back at me, and I know why. I see you off, but we don’t look at each other. And once you’re gone, I go to our stone. I see your carriage ascending, and I smile. I’m still smiling when they find me, broken and battered at the bottom of the river, missing for 3 weeks. I’m still smiling when they put me in the ground, the farthest I can be from you. I’m still smiling when I see you again, eons later, as you cut me down in the name of your king. I smile when you look me in the face, see who you damned, and cry. I smile as I leave your arms, as the fire begins to lick at my feet. I cry only when I look up and see nothing but darkness and flame, and finally accept my fate.
Fotini Mourelatos
I never left and why some things
“I Wonder Why...”
Never really happen, but not
Max Marinelli
For me; it is beyond me.
I wonder why we never left. And I wonder Why some things never really happen. I wonder why we can’t remember What we need to forget. And I Wonder who decides which things Are just things and which are far more. I wonder why the right decision doesn’t Always yield the correct answer. And I Wonder why you can’t change a person For the better, at least not forcefully. And I wonder why no amount of Convincing can fix ignorance. I wonder why the more I learn the Less I understand and why happy Memories now make me depressed. And I wonder why music takes over my Mood, and why we can’t force ourselves To be happy, but we can choose to be sad. I wonder why you can’t be at the top of The world without the looming fear of The inevitable freefall back to reality. And I wonder why we argue to win; It is no wonder that we don’t Grow from our insecurities I wonder why we still Believe in fate but not in curses. And I wonder why we are often saved By accident and why people with the least Are most willing to share it all. I wonder why We can touch another without reaching out a Hand, and how we can kiss without our lips, And how we speak the loudest with shut Mouths. Over and over I wonder why
this weird gap, and I’m not sure why. Honestly, the age gap between me and his family is so big that it feels like the distance between the sun and Pluto. It creates a chilling atmosphere, it’s
Smoke And Wrinkles By: Colleen Crowley
T
so unnerving and makes any c o n v e r s a t i o n s r e a l l y. . . uncomfortable. Most of the time, I try to avoid him if I can. The
here is this one person I
gap makes it extremely hard to
have seen around in my
relate to him and it doesn’t help
neighborhood. His name is
that I am not good with
Bryan. He is about the age of my
conversations. Any small talk with
parents, probably older. He has
him is just odd, it feels like a
grey hair like a storm cloud. His
family member you don’t know
skin is wrinkled and almost a
about shows up and talks like you
pasty pale. He always smokes on
have known them forever. It can
the front porch, you can always
be kind of creepy. It doesn’t help
smell it when walking by.
that I don’t really like doing that
Sometimes, I see him around here
with people I don’t really know. I
and there with his family.
wonder what he is actually like. Is
Whenever I do see him, I only say
he kind? Or is he malicious? I
hello. He has about 3 kids and all
only see small portions of his life,
of them are much older than I
what is behind those curtains of
am. His daughters are already in
age. I wonder why it feels weird
college and I see them visit him.
when I talk to people older than
Only thing is, that is all I really
me. Weird. Weird. Weird.
know about him. I can’t connect to him whatsoever because of
As I open the fridge, a jar falls
Even if that meant getting sick, I
from a shelf and shatters on the
decided to eat the marmalade off
ground.
of the floor.
“Well, there goes my marmalade,” I say to myself.
Marmalade By: Eric-Ross McLaren
I
I start, ready to prepare another meal for myself, but I stop in my tracks.
walk into the kitchen, desiring
only one thing: bread with jam.
“Hmm, the marmalade is only on
There are many foods in the
the floor.”
world that I enjoy eating. But there is only one thing that I
I turn back towards the
usually eat when desiring
marmalade, preparing myself to
sustenance, which is bread with
scoop the marmalade off the
jam.
ground and onto my slice of toast. Hovering above the
The kitchen is very stylish. It
shattered glass and dispersed
resembles the Victorian era, with
marmalade, I began to rethink my
black and white tiled floors. You
previous intent.
could say that my house is well, very “homey”.
What if I got sick? What if there’s a piece of glass in it? What if the
I walk over to the fridge in search
dog tracked mud on the floor?
of a jar of marmalade.
The possibilities are endless.


Fotini Mourelatos
Dorothy Babb
Jade Halpern and Thea Volpp
“The Woman with the Red Laced Boots” Roma LoGiurato
A heart of gold they say she has the woman with the red laced boots and without a face she lost her place
She walked with a purpose
the woman with the red lace boot
with fire in her eyes
the woman with the red laced boots
Her children hungry,
Not scarlet or pink, not
They ache and pout
brown or turquoise,
the woman with the red lace boot
Nor even Black, or green
She’s a woman with red laced boots
Don’t you worry
Don’t you cry
She’s mysterious, and quite serious
I’ll share some bread
the woman with the red laced boots
Miss lady with the pretty laces on your boot
With three children and
She gives a smile
lawyer suits
And stays for a while
the woman with the red laced boots
the woman with the red laced boots
She had a posse she’d called them friends
Learn and grow
the women with the red laced boots
Watch and know
Next time you see her
They broke her heart and left her none
Lend a hand to your
the women with the red laced boots
the woman with the red laced boots
“Untitled”
Evan Sweitzer
August is time for caring again and asking your August friends If they’ve been as good with summer reading as
January friends are the friends who keep your heart
you have
warm
We have to hang out before school starts
It’s weird when you stick an arm outside and feel
the mugginess
Back again.
Your January friends are no longer needed
Small-talk September
How was your summer oh I was in the hospital hm
February friends are Tuesday friends.
lolz oh right mh hmm
There’s really no precedent for having no breaks
Except to celebrate the Presidents.
Whenever someone says “Trick or Treat?”
March friends are the Friday night crowd
I want to say
They’re new friends before the soil thickens
“Trick.”
With the cool rain.
November friends are Thursday friends, Thursday
The shoes of April friends come in handy
morning; afternoon is the break.
When yours are wet
And school hits again like hell on Friday morning
They always fit and never give you blisters.
but it’s Friday
So only a couple more weeks till the weekend
May friends are for walks and talks
And wading into the water then gliding back
New Year’s holding a friend tightly
From deep to shallow
Is like watching the sun set on Sunday night.
Together, forward.
June friends are the ones who stick around Or the new ones whose addresses you write on a piece of paper Which sticks around in your drawer Recall in July when you smirked as your friend’s mom Slathered sunscreen all over him and then because you’re So grown up she let you do it yourself and you pretended to and got sunburned
Zach Zhai
Home By: Zach Zhai
messy piles of clothes left
day. One day finally, with the
unfolded on the sofa ever since
summer rain pouring outside the
mom moved out, the wooden
window, mom came into the
table with a basin of eastern
living room and said in stillness
daffodils in the living room, and
that she wanted to separate. That
the stale piece of Chinese
day the house was shrouded in
calligraphy collected by dad on
the dark under the clouds.
the wall, all soft. In spring, the house will be filled with the smell
I soon started to travel
of daffodils mixed with
from one house to another
live in a house on Orchid
Osmanthus in the garden, and
ceaselessly every other week ever
Road that has only one floor with
dad will sing the old ballads in
since that day. From dad’s house
a big backyard. It is a house
some cozy afternoon. There was a
to mom’s, separates my life into
always filled with light, not strong
time everything in the house just
two different parts. I used to
but tender light, no matter in the
rested comfortably beneath the
dream to live in one big house
morning or afternoon. It’s mostly
sunlight, but nothing lasts forever.
with all my grandparents and
because there are too many big
Even the most beautiful flower
cousins, a big family together
windows in my house, when you
would fade and wind would soon
squeezed tightly under the same
wake up at 10:00 am in the
carry out the smell, and the
roof. You can always hear the
summer you’ll find a trace of light
softest part of your heart would
laughter from the living room, the
shining through the pine outside
become hard as rock from then.
elders would sit around the dining
the window and dropping softly
It was the confrontation of
table for hot pot and keep
onto your feet, soothing every
silence. There weren’t many
chattering and chattering, the
part of your skin. I sometimes
quarrels and arguments, each day
youths will have to wait
feel like my house would still be
they just talked less and less to
impatiently until the elders take
this bright even if it’s cloudy as if
each other, and mom started to
their first bites and then can start
the wooden floor would glimmer
spend the nights out more often.
to eat, just like the way any other
itself. There seems to be a soft
You could feel the emptiness in
Chinese family would normally
touch everywhere in my house,
their hearts as if the house is just
do, but here I am all alone at this
the wallpaper with mottled yellow,
getting colder and colder each
new place that I don’t recognize.
I
Mom’s house is quite
others away. In the new house
different, the floors are made of
there’s a new way of living, as I
ceramic tiles, all the furniture
soon started to learn playing
tends to be white, gray and black.
piano, I have to learn how to do
It is a bigger house, with wider
almost everything by myself. I did
space, higher roof, and more
have some very good memories in
rooms, but it seems to me that
this new house, but it just never
the sofas sitting in the big living
would be the same home that I
room are so alone with a feeling
once had.
of emptiness.There are still many windows in the house, but every
I still go to my dad’s house
time sunlight comes in the thick
every other week, but with
glass seems to reflect the light
different feelings than before. The
back out and never containing it
house and dad ever stay the same,
in the room. There are few
I’m the one changing. I know I
western abstract paintings on the
would only walk farther and
wall of the porch, colors and
farther away from that younger
figures distorted unnaturally,
self. As I hover back and forth
giving me a strange feeling of
between two houses ceaselessly,
loss, as if something is missing
there’s always a sense of not
from the painting. Mom has a
belonging as if some parts of my
cactus stand lonely in the corner
memories are missing. It is the
of the living room. It has a thick
feeling of family that I miss, I
body with thorns all over the
later realized.
place, no smell, no touch, not even worth looking at. But it’s strong, Mom said solemnly. It could live in the desert for months without a single drop of water, and it grows thorns to keep
“What is Home?” Roma LoGiurato
Home is a place of solidarity Home is where the meatballs cook and the love is endless
Home is ramen slowly cooking
“Home is where the heart is”(Gaius Plinius
Home is cats, dogs, and animals of all sorts
Secundus)
Home is tight spaces and big rooms Under a bed, on a couch A big loud family up and about Home is playing video games by the fireplace K-pop blasting, dancing and all sorts of food Everyone's mad or in a good mood Ooh dinnertime, where's the food? At Home everyone’s family At home, friends are caring At home, the monsters go away Hugs and cookies fill the night Home is circles of salt and a fandom of many Home is a protection from the darkness of the world At home, athletes are getting rest At home epic stories of adventures are told At home, someone yells“get off your back LoGiuratah” and “It’s out there LoGiuratah, you gotta go get it”
“She Who Makes the Clocks Tick” Dabin Seomun
The lonely fool hugs her clockwork close to her shivering claws as the machine ticks each time she takes one step on the very thin yet very long wire of string. She continues her way towards her destination which has no end or perhaps it has an end. It’s just too long for anybody, even herself to even see when her journey would finish. But without regrets, without hesitation she continues the lonely path of hers. Is this duty or is this an impulse? But what matters is that she never rests. And as each of her small footsteps cause ripples throughout the cosmos that grows dimmer by each step, she tears down the highest mountains, she razes the flourishing kingdoms. Even stars explode and burn black, then fade to nothing. But, as much as she is the reason of all ends, she is the reason for all beginnings and everything in between. She helps gravity pull clumps of magic dust to create a planet, she urges the chick to break their own world and step into a wider one. Children ripe into young and beautiful creatures and the innocent blue sky dyes with a powerful dose of red, orange, and gold. Snakes swallow beads of energy and ascend into the sky in it’s full fledged form of a dragon.
“And As I Sit Here” Max Marinelli
And as I sit here Upon this gravel overlook I peer out, a gaze falling Unto the mountains great green. And as I sit here, Legs dangling over the only guards shielding the void from I, The murky rivers of my mind are cleansed as Life's new perspective explodes from thought's geysers. And as I sit here, I now know what a treasure I seek; Oh how simple it is, for a nature's scene to embark forever In our minds, where everyday things are so easily forgotten.
left.
In fact, Seymour was
probably happy that Sally kept having twins, because it made her keep asking him to come back and try again. enough.
She was done with
having to drop her babies out of
Untitled By: Lydia Russell
“
Sally had had
the tree and leave them to die every time.
She was done with
cr ying her mating call for Shit,” Sally thought to herself.
Seymour and fueling his hyper
She could feel it, she was going to
masculinity.
have twins...again. In thirteen year
feeling inadequate for not being
of mating with Seymour, they had
able to succeed as a mother. This
twins every single time.
The
time, she would do what no sloth
added up to 26 children that Sally
had done before: she would raise
never got a chance to care for.
her twins. Once Sally resolved to
She cursed herself for being a
do this she knew her life would
sloth; if she were a bird or a dog,
never be the same. What she did
or literally any other species, even
not foresee, however, was that she
a human, she could have had
would completely revolutionize
twins no problem. Unfortunately
the process of child bearing and
for Sally, she was stuck being a
rearing for all of sloths for the
sloth, and couldn’t carry and raise
rest of eternity.
more than one baby on her back at once.
What was even more
frustrating was that this didn’t bother Seymour in the slightest. Every year he arrived at her tree, enjoyed the sex, and promptly
She was done with
are for now without status or power, just waiting in stalemate until a threat appears and weakness to be dealt with. I work until late when we finally return back to darkness, but I enter a
Aquarium By: Aiden McLean
I
light sleep, always weary, always ready for a possible and ever real threat. This is the life we live in, in our little world. Our minds are
wake up and move down
kept stimulated by maintenance
and g reet the rest of my
but we can see more. Just out of
neighbors to another good
our reach I can see it, a larger
morning. Shortly I head up for
world, empty to all but a few.
breakfast before we all scatter
How I want to enter that world,
from each other. Each one doing
how we all do, but we are trapped
their own thing, occasionally
in our box, and yet it is our prison
meeting up with others to discuss
which protects us from all of the
the going ons in our world and
threats in the larger world outside.
we all do the same thing to maintain our homes and our lives. Our minds are fixated on one thing at a time until we are satisfied and move on to the next. I pass by some of my companions, but head with the usual ones that I am forced to stay with. We all have become paranoid about each other and always stay a distance apart. We
“It’s All a Peaceful Sight from Distance” Max Marinelli
I’m starting to miss— miss a lot, And not just in a checklist way. It floats to friends near forgot, Wades through deep water’s gray; It slips away to faded red beach pals, Through reeds to riches long untold. And as disease of mind allows, Once stable minds have quick been sold. Fears lay atop my mind which seldom cross The gloomiest of everyday days. And things which last could not be lost Have suddenly slipped out my gaze. It’s all a peaceful sight from distance, For we all expect it overblown. How can contempt breed coexistence? It’s tragic true grief hides unknown.
Yun Tai By: Zach Zhai
T
each dynasty that has the name of
It was in the winter, for some
every Taoist priest of the temple
r e a s o n e ve r y t h i n g t e r r i b l e
on them, and the earliest one is
happened in winter. I was woken
from Ming. Behind the yard is the
up by the loud noises outside
lake of Yun Tai, it has the water
from the streets, people were
that forever rests in solemn
yelling and laughing as if they
silence. Around the lake are the
were celebrating some big festival.
aged temples that have the wooden pillars with finely carved myths and dusty pottery statues
“What are they cheering about?” I asked my mom.
wo miles away from my
of gods from hundreds years ago.
house, under the shades of the
There are never many people
“We're gonna build a mall in
thick coniferous cedars, there’s a
coming to burn the incense and
town!” Mom answered with
temple. Old wooden buildings
pray, besides cuckoo’s cry, the
excitement.
that have walls with faded red and
sound of the summer rains is
green roofs with cuckoo’s nests
probably the loudest thing ever in
covered under the trees,
the temple. It’s been this quiet for
surrounding a small lake, and
c e n t u r i e s, t h e w a y o f i t s
that’s the Taoist temple of Yun
coexistence with the town, just
Tai. Yun Tai means a platform
like an old man sitting there
above the clouds, no one is sure
relaxed watching his children
about which years exactly the
g r ow. Fr o m g e n e r a t i o n t o
temple was built, but everybody
generation, the town keeps
knows it was during the Ming
changing and changing but the
dynasty. Through the heavy
temple ever stays the same, and I
Destruction work would start
wooden gate that has the color of
once thought this quiet it's going
in 10 days, all the buildings in that
maple and with rusty copper
to last for the next five hundred
block would be removed with the
inlaid, there is a place we used to
years.
high demolition fee paid to the
“At where?” “The temple” “And what about the temple?” “Everything is gonna be demolished.”
play hide and seek, a courtyard
owners. Mom said it's great for
filled with eroded steles from
economic growth, the new mall
means more jobs and a much
with sighs but submerged by the
I didn’t realize how pathetic it
higher employment rate, and this
cheering of the crowds. The lake
was that the people weren't aware
also will be a great convenience
was now exposed under the dust
of the artistic and historical value
for ourselves: “despite all the
raised from the ruins, with a thin
and the cultural meaning of the
benefits we’ll get, the temple is
layer of ice on the surface
t e m p l e a t t h a t s p e e ch l e s s
already too shabby and people
reflecting the broken red walls
moment, how pathetic that one
barely go there except some olds.”
and green roofs, it seemed even
nation weren’t aware of the value
The older generation seems to be
more peaceful than normal as if it
of their own culture, but I did
the only people who have
knew what would come and had
feel the deep sadness of Yun Tai,
different opinions about
the courage to face it with calm. It
to be forgotten, to be abandoned.
demolition, but the construction
suddenly starts to snow, without
company ignored their protests.
any indications, the wet and small snowflakes of south China soon
The destruction started on
covered our sights, landed on the
time. It was a Sunday in early
ice, painted the whole lake to
February,
despite the coldness
white like a br ush. The
everybody still gathered in front
destruction continues, the broken
of the temple to witness the start
parts from the building at the left
of the destruction. The
and right side of the lake started
evacuators tore down the front
to fall into the water, and at the
gate with cheering from the
last second before the water had
crowds, and the facade was soon
been polluted by the broken wall,
destroyed. You could hear the
this picture of a lake with pure
machines roaring even from two
white behind the raggedy ruins of
blocks away as the workers sawing
fading red suddenly looked
the pillars. The wood was crying,
strangely and breathlessly
and you could hear it as if the
beautiful. It expanded in front of
temple was moaning painfully.
my eye, and the moment the
“Blasphemy would only bring us
broken piece dropped into that
calamity,” said by an old woman
pure white, my heart was broken .
show. I didn’t think very highly
middle school. I sat down at the
about this song. The words were
piano and started to play the
silly and a Grammy was not in its
chord progression: C,A,F,E (get
future. I didn’t want to perform
it?) and the words came out of
this in front of a large audience.
my mouth. “Creepy cafeteria lady,
But that wasn’t the worst part. If
what’s in that...soup?” The crowd
I ended up performing this song,
started to laugh. I continued to
my teacher would have to dress
sing. “I don’t know what you put
up as a creepy cafeteria lady and I
in there, but it looks like goop.” I
would have to wear my ugly
remember I wanted to use
n sixth grade, I took piano
school uniform. While everyone
another word, but I wasn’t
lessons, and part of the program
else would be wearing fun
allowed. “It says today is chicken
i n vo l ve d p e r f o r m i n g i n a
Halloween costumes, I would be
noodle, but you had to use an ice
Halloween show. The most
wearing my mundane white shirt
cream scoop.” The laughter in the
important part of this show was
and plaid kilt that was way too big
crowd grew louder and louder
that each performer was required
on me. I detested my school
with each line. When the song
to wear a costume that went along
uniform. I was already tired of
was over, everyone clapped and
with their song. The year before, I
wearing it every day at school, so
cheered. The crowd's reaction
dressed up as a peacock while
of course I was annoyed when I
made me less embarrassed about
playing a song about snakes. That
found out I might have to wear it
performing my silly song in my
made no sense to me, but at least
on a Saturday evening. I told my
ugly uniform. A few years later, I
my costume looked good. This
teacher that I did not want to do
found an advertisement for the
time, I was more experienced, so
this, but she said it would be a
music program. It was a picture
my teacher wanted me to do
good idea and a lot of people
of me perfor ming “Creepy
something different. That
would like it.. After a lot of
Cafeteria Lady!” Even though I
summer, I had written a very silly
pressure from my teacher and my
didn’t look good doing it, in the
song called “Creepy Cafeteria
parents, I gave in. I put on my
end, I realized it was the right
Lady,” a song whose title is self-
boring old uniform, and with
thing to do.
explanatory, and my teacher really
every step towards the stage, I
wanted me to perform it in the
was reminded of the horrors of
Untitled By: Carrie Ann Teti
I
“Hello Ma’am, how can I help you?” I asked her.
I sat there silent. I know you are never supposed to question a customer, but it was 2 a.m. and I
I tried my hardest but failed to smile.
Just In Case By: Liam Giszter
I
She smiled at me with large
couldn’t handle it anymore. This felt completely absurd to me. “May I ask why?” I asked.
pink lips, and walked up to the countertop and handed ten one-
“Just in case,” she said.
hundred-dollar bills to me over t was 2 A.M. when an older
the counter.
After I had finally finished ringing up her order, my mind
woman entered the gas station store smiling, with her palms
“I want to buy out all of the
was off of my girlfriend. I was
sweaty and collapsed together in
firewood you have, all of the
thinking about what the hell I
between her paint-stained jeans. I
matches your store has, and,” she
would tell my boss.
was the only one left in the store;
thought about it for a while, “all
it was another one of my late-
of the hot dogs in your store. I’m
night shifts. I had to cancel a date
hungry.”
me. I didn’t know what to do. I
My jaw dropped. I just stood there.
At 3 A.M., I turned on the news and saw a live broadcast of
was screaming to myself for the past thirty minutes, and I hated
sing-song voice, as she left with arms filled.
for it, and I was freaking out. I knew she was considering leaving
“Thank you!” she said in a
She repeated herself.
some sort of pyre. In the middle of the woods, in a clearing, a few
that this woman had silenced me. “I want to buy out all of the
miles away, a massive funeral pyre
So when she came in, I wanted
firewood you have, all of the
was created. Whoever had
to do whatever I could to make
matches your store has, and all of
stepped on it was a burnt crisp
her go away as fast as possible. I
the hot dogs.”
now. The cops could not tell until
wanted to scream again.
the fire was put out. Written on sticks on the ground, however,
was the words, “Just in case the world burns.� I turned off the tv.
Dabin Seomun


BK Kothari
Reed Cooper
until they disappeared on the
suddenly start crying breathlessly
horizon, as if could lead him to
with the most painful tears or
the past, to the age that he
start laughing madly like he heard
belongs to.
the most ridiculous joke in the world. It’s the classical Chinese
Mr. Wu is special, he’s different
(sort of like middle English
from all of us. He has beards as
Shakespeare used) that he was
white as the snow of Everest, it is
whispering dad later told me.
so long that it could easily cover
Despite all his madness, he
his chest without him putting his
teaches us some proverbs and old
obody knows Mr. Wu’s
head down, and it has the feature
sayings when he’s happy, and you
first name, as if he never had one,
tough and straight that don’t
can always find him writing
everybody just calls him Mr.Wu.
belong to the modern age. He
calligraphy with his big old
He is the oldest person in the
always ties his long gray hair on
writing brush in the park. He’ll
neighborhood, and it seems he
the back like the characters from
then teach us the characters and
has lived here for a really long
historical drama would do, and
the poem in his writing if we
time, maybe even before the town
wears a nostalgic black coat as if
went close. My friends’ parents
was built. No one knows either if
he’s walking on the streets of
always tell us to stay away from
Mr. Wu has family, because he’s
1920s. Sometimes we’ll be afraid
the creepy old guy, but the elderly
always so alone. In the afternoon,
of him, not only because of his
seem to be very respectful to him,
he would walk slowly up to the
weird looking but also his
not the kind of respect to friends
big park on the hill where he
craziness. Somedays at dawn,
but more like students to a
could have the best view of the
when there’s still one tiny piece of
teacher.
town, and he would sit quietly
gold shining at the end of the sky,
underneath an old willow that
you would see him unsteadily on
Later I knew this from one of
looks the same age as he is. His
the street as if he’s drunk, shaking
my friends' grandfather who also
eyes would then follow the
his head, whispering some
lived in the neighborhood. Before
dropping leaves that were taken
fragments of sentences like lyrics
The War of Liberation, Mr.Wu
away by the wind of spring, and
or poems that we couldn't
was the landlord of the area that
watch them fly farther and farther
understand, and then he may
included the uphill park and some
Mr.Wu By: Zach Zhai
N
other places around today, he
How did you happen to know
inherited the land from his father
all of this story of the library and
who was one of the ministers of
Mr. Wu? I then asked.
the Qing dynasty. As a history scholar and with the money he
I was one of the students that
inherited from his father, he built
night. Said by the old man with a
a library that contains all his
long sigh, not knowing where to
collections of ancient books,
continue.
traditional wood carvings and paintings in his manor. He
I suddenly understand Mr.Wu,
donated this library to the
when he’s sitting under the old
republic government in 1948, it
willow, watching the leaves going
then became a public library.
away with the wind. From his sad
After the liberation war, his land
eyes, I see a library of humanity is
had all been collected by the
burning to dust, an old culture is
government. As more and more
falling down.
people fleeing from the war started to settle in and together with the native residents, the town has thrived. The library had also prospered for some years, until the time of cultural revolution. Young students gathered in front of the library, and announced its decadence and futility, what’s inside are is a bunch of crap left by feudal class, and then they burned the library down. The willow is the only thing left there standing after the fire.
 
Costume Design by Sophia Haggray
Costume Design by Sophia Haggray
Costume Design by Sophia Haggray
from under him, the joint roared again.
“ Ye a h yo u s h o u l d b e ! Committing genocide? Bombing neighborhoods? Burning Zoos?
“Hey kid! Give me that back!”
Your highways are murder!” Francis shouted, without breaking
Old Man Larry’s By: Matteo Lewis
W
Francis ignored his protests and
eye contact. He pulled a small
went through the cavities of his
card from the man's bag. It was
bag. The man was angry until he
his ID for the political party he
realized how outnumbered he
subscribed to, but not the one we
was.
did.
e all occupied various diner
booths. Pancakes, cigarettes,
“Look, if you want money take
The man was silent, he didn’t
fluorescent lights, and scrappy
it. I’ve got some more in my
know how to respond; especially
youth filled Larry’s every Saturday
wallet, here”. He dug a far-too-
not to a group of thirty some
night. It was last Saturday, or
nice wallet out of his pocket and
angry kids. Not after the last bill
maybe the one before that, when
tossed it at Francis. Francis
was passed. It didn’t matter how
an unsuspecting man walked into
laughed and returned the gesture
he was going to respond, he was
the joint. What was previously a
by throwing the wallet to the feet
dead. We dragged him outside
lively, profane atmosphere
of man, along with the other cash
and took turns whaling on him.
changed instantly into absolute
from the bag. He was confused.
The cries bounced around the concrete walls of the jaded
silence complemented by oppressive stares. Old man Larry
“Ah!” Francis said, finding what
neighborhood. It all stopped
dropped a plate in the back. The
he wanted. “What? What are you
when Gene took a fluorescent
crash turned the silence of the
looking for?”
light tube and slit his throat with it. Old man Larry freaked out the
kids into hushed murmurs. The man sat at one of the few spots at
“You enjoy killing people, huh?”
wasn’t a sustainable habit. He
the counter, resting his backpack at the base of his barstool. Before
first few times, but at his age that
“Sorry?”
handed us his mop and a few
the man got a chance to order,
dollars to buy a new one at the
Francis scooped up his backpack
hardware store.


Dabin Seomun
Sydney Bendesky
Sydney Bendesky
Senior Messages In light of this strange year, INK wanted to give seniors an opportunity to write a message they would have liked to be able to share with their community or just messages about their careers at FCS. Below are the messages we received. Thank you seniors!
Senior Message
Lisa Green
Hi Everyone, I can’t believe I’m writing this. I can’t believe I’m writing it instead of saying it. I can’t believe we don’t get our Meeting for Leaving. The one I have envisioned for four years. The one I would think about every time something seemingly huge altered my life. That is heartbreaking, but it makes me think that if we do get this Meeting for Leaving (albeit belated), we may be more grateful for those last moments together in high school. It seems crazy to say goodbye to seven years of learning, growing, making friends, crying, struggling, reaching out, and becoming the person I am now. That is, without a proper goodbye. I guess I want to say something to those not in twelfth grade that I wish I had heard earlier. Most seniors say it goes by faster than you think, and that is certainly true but not the point I am trying to make. The true mistake is not appreciating the people who surround you everyday. I wasted so much time wondering if people liked things that I was saying, if they liked me and wanted to be around me. My greatest fear was that I annoyed everyone in my life and was fundamentally unlikeable. Once I stopped looking within so much and worrying about every last word out of my mouth, I saw the people who had been there all along and I decided to let myself lean on them. Another comfort came in the form of Mr. Gruber, one of the most generous people I know. I had one class with him in ninth grade and then had a lunch meeting with him once a week for the rest of high school. Those lunches were filled with humor, wonderful, invaluable advice, and true friendship. In one of these meetings, I expressed my anxieties and he told me something I’ll never forget. “Lisa, you can’t expect to go into the world thinking nothing bad will ever happen. But you must have faith that when those things do happen, you will be equipped to deal with them.” It was such an empowering, incredible, awe-inspiring idea. You really do control your life and happiness. You may not think that you do, but to a certain extent you can if you choose to. Investing in relationships with people who value you, support you, and love you for you, and not caring about those who don’t is a lesson I should have learned long before tenth grade and one that anyone reading this can. Granted, everyone has work to do, but to the right people, you are perfect just as you are, and your struggles do not define you, they just provide you with opportunities for growth. As for the people in my year reading this, I hope we learn something from this whole Covid-19 situation and make a commitment to make things like our reunions great. I hope we can take what we learned from high school and build upon it in our lives, eventually coming back together stronger. I wish all the best for the class of 2020, as many of you shaped my high school experience and the person I am today. To Ms. Novo, the greatest advisor I could ever ask for, I hope you know how incredibly special you are and how lucky we all are to know you and have you as our teacher. I have never seen anyone care and genuinely reach out the way you do. To Ms. Plunkett, thank you for seeing the best in me when I rarely saw it in myself and for having honest conversations on everything from integrals to family drama. To my friends, thank you for teaching me what it means to be authentic, kind, creative, and caring. I appreciate you all and hope you know how much you mean to me. If you are reading this, even if you are a senior, you still have time to make the most of Friends’ Central. Reach out to your teachers (yes, even if it must be on Zoom), tell your friends you love them and don’t be afraid to express how you feel. Life is just too short to worry and to not show all of yourself. Don’t worry about trying to impress people or making yourself something you’re not. Be genuine, forthright, and authentic, and the rest will follow.
Senior Message
Tristan Szapary
Several ancient trees protect the space of the oval with their gracious shade and comforting presence. SAC tour guides leading their visitors through the heart of campus allow the magnitude of each elderly oak to speak for itself, but what about the trees that an outsider could never see? The ones with invisible bark and an imperceivable overhang. The ones whose branches wrap all around FCS, hugging each field and filling every classroom. The ones that busy commuters hustling down City Line Ave will never get to see but which any member of the community knows are quite real indeed. The newest of these trees stood tall and proud even as a little sapling, prepared to bring with it any load of weight picked up along the way as it grew bigger each year. Now, fully-grown and somehow even prouder, the oak stretches out its 101 individual branches. Each arm plays an equal part in filling its role, not one could go missing without disrupting the whole. Attached to every branch is an entire host of more shoots so that each appendage acts as its own individual tree. For every lesson learned with a teacher and each high-five earned from a coach, another twig is born. Equally, any wave from cafeteria staff and all messages from meeting for worship grow more stems on each shoot. What’s left is the collection of all the branches and their individual stories creating a beautiful canvas of shared time, rooted in place by one wide trunk. Look no further for evidence of these invisible trees’ strength than the FCS history archives or the black and white class pictures hung across the halls of Main. Wars and recessions failed to cut down a single one, and so it seems neither will a pandemic. Though beautiful oaks complete the space of the oval, the invisible ones protect its spirit. So the newest of these trees plants itself firmly in the ground and refuses to yield in the face of disease. A bronze plaque floats around the base of the invisible bark, screwless but forever fastened in place. It reads, “With Love in Plenty, Class of 2020.”
Senior Message
Eva Bartholomew
I wanted to use this space to thank everyone I’ve met and formed relationships with, whether it be through class, sports, or clubs. I’d also like to thank all of the teachers I’ve had over the past four years. I did not have the best middle school experience, and I will always regret not coming to FCS sooner. Coming into the FCS community in 9th grade led to such a refreshing and amazing experience that I will never forget. Although we did not get these last three months together, I would not change anything about my experience at FCS. It’s so much harder to write this than I thought it would be; I cannot put into words how much I love this community and how sad I am that the next time I step on campus I’ll no longer be a student. I could not be more grateful for all of the lasting relationships and memories I have because of my time at FCS.
Editor’s Page
Incredible Job! - Alex Emmet Sun
Amazing work this year! - Esmé
So I have to brute force Pages to work, and even then it doesn’t enjoy living, y’know? Which makes me that much less productive, and then I mess up the flow of everything else, and it’s not like I’m a functional editor anyway, but, y’know, vibe check am I right? Just vibe check until everything’s okay, y’know? My entire personality boils down to saying “y’know”, y’know? Like I want those metal-star vibes, y’know? “Know” doesn’t look like a real word anymore, y’know? Also, I’m so proud of my fellow editors...y’know - Y’know (Fotini) Adele Goldader is a barely-functional human being that plays video games and draws occasionally. She is extremely proud of everyone in Ink for finishing the magazine, and will miss her predecessors as they head off into the wide world of not Friends’ Central. Wait, why am I talking about myself in the third person? How did I get here? What is the meaning of life? Someone please send help, I haven’t had Redd come to my island for four weeks straight, and I am in desperate need of art. Does anyone have a decent turnip price? I’ll trade you my Cute Radio. - Adele Thanks for a great 3 years, guys. It’s been so much fun getting to work with you all. I’ve loved getting to read everyone’s submissions, see everyone’s artwork, and watch the magazine come together year after year. I will miss our Thursday meetings! I know the club is in good hands, and I look forward to seeing what you guys do with it in the years to come! Send me a copy every once in awhile, ok? - Sofia I first off want to thank everyone who has submitted anything over the past 3 years I’ve co-led this club. It has been an absolute honor to be a leader and help put the mag together each year, and I know I haven’t done an amazing job, but I’m very thankful to have had this opportunity. I know I’m leaving the club in more capable hands than mine, these three (while chaotic) will undoubtably bring the club to new and better heights, and I can’t wait to see where they go. So thank you FCS, for an amazing 4 years, and thank you especially to Ms. Novo for helping to keep the club alive. Also for putting up with us. I know we’re a lot. I love all my editors a bunch, and thanks again to everyone who submitted! Bye y’all! - Lis Amount of Pages Crashes Through the Making of This Magazine: 6