A Glimpse into Eternal Nothingness

Eli Striker

I am a rhinoceros-- or, should I say, as green as a rhinoceros.

I taste the music of the forest, as I hear the trees playing the drums. I am affectionate and kind, and callous and malicious.

I see the sun, and I put my onion glasses on.

Suddenly, a stegosaurus stomps over the horizon, and I spill my tortoise-like ice cream. I had to taste it to know its secrets, but now a small, creamy drop dribbles down my chin. If I take another step, I will not fall, but my ice cream fell, so I am no longer okay, a dead man walking. I feel the warmth of the moon on my skin. I see the sound of leaves chirping. I close my eyes, melting into a puddle. Suddenly, I panic, as I cannot find the one thing that I treasure most. I worriedly shriek, “Honey, where is my supersuit?”

An aardvark slowly creeps up my leg. This will make an excellent addition to my collection.

Bare Face

Brian Orza

An empty face is a strange place. The steel frame slides down like a car going up an icy hill. Clenching fists while your finger pushes it back up again and again. Stares from friends who’ve never met you, laughs from friends who’ve always known you.

The blur goes away and the letters are clear, and the small shadows beneath your pencil appears. The sour taste in your mouth starts to fade, and the clouds in your head all disappear. An empty face is a strange place.