Pillars of Salt
Winter 2016
Editors Lina Jegeus Talia Natoli Staff Anna Allgeyer Livia Blum Lulu Cerone Erica Dick Natalie Goldstein Chloe Hoberman Audrey Koh Bella Tuffias-Mora Gabriella Weltman Dominique White Faculty Advisor James Russo
Pillars of Salt Literary Magazine The Archer School for Girls Winter 2016-2017
Tigre dans L’Ombre Stella Gage (’17)
Table of Contents Untitled by Ingrid Sant (’17)....................................................cover Tigre dans L’Ombre by Stella Gage (’17)..............................................2 The Garden by Isabel Adler (’17)......................................................4 Untitled by Ingrid Sant (’17)......................................................5 Intergalactic by Lena Jones (’20).......................................................6 Untitled by Ingrid Sant (’17)............................................................9 Muse by Talia Natoli (’17)...................................................................10 Icy Touch by Rose Shulman-Litwin (’18).......................................11 This Person by Chloe Hoberman (’17)..............................................12 Cannibal by Rose Shulman-Litwin (’18)........................................14 Flags Down by Dominique White (’18)..........................................15 The Dream of Meeting Your Younger Self by Omari Benjamin (’18)..16 Stained by Rose Shulman-Litwin (’18)..........................................18 Guns by Erika Dick (’19)......................................................................19 Uncanny by Lina Jegeus (’17).........................................................20 Twilight by India Halsted (’17)...........................................................21 Untitled by Emily Delossa (’19).........................................................22 Untitled by Emily Delossa (’19).......................................................23 Turritopsis Dohrnii by Lulu Cerone (’17)..........................................24 Thoughts Had While Babysitting by Carly Feldman (’17).................28 Untitled by Emily Delossa (’19)..........................................................29 Wonderland by The Jane Austen Society......................................30 Untitled by Miayunique South (’20).........................................31 Skittles by Sarah Walston (‘17).....................................................32 She and He by Kat McKay (’20)......................................................33 Tea Time by Anna Allgeyer (’18)..........................................................34 Untitled by Josie Gordon (’20)..............................................................39 The Impact of Kind Words by Bella Tuffias-Mora (’18)...................40 Ties by Natalie Goldstein (’18).......................................................42 Untitled by Ingrid Sant (’17).......................................................43 Selft Portrait by India Halsted (’17)...................................................44 Gilda Marie by Caroline Ediger (’19)...............................................45 Anthems of the Middle School Dance by Gabriella Weltman (’17)....46 The Web by Livia Blum (’19).....................................................47 Untitled by Ingrid Sant (‘17)...............................................................51 11:11pm by Audrey Koh (’17)...........................................................52 Fairies by Rose Shulman-Litwin (’18)..........................................53 A Nutty Day at Archer by Pillars of Salt Staff.....................................47
The Garden The man died in the garden It was a thousand nights until they noticed A thousand endless endless pitch black nights. Then they took a graft from the middle of his body To the large city to be used on the foreheads and in the pills Of the sleeping children. And slowly, without anyone remembering, he vanished, Vanished. And handsome Suzanne cried. Isabel Adler (’17)
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Ingrid Sant (‘17) Pillars of Salt 5
Intergalactic I:
“Too High”
I grabbed onto a jet stream and flew away, luggage in hand, through cloud and smog. It had taken everything in me not to jump, but the view was worth the wait. Besides, the fall back down to Earth would’ve taken all day! You know how it is. The sky had been a stale bluish-brown for as long as I could remember; now, for only a moment, it was a pure, crystal blue, then deep violet, then black as squid ink. And throughout the sludge and smudges of ink, there were stars. Stars and planets shimmering green and blue and red and orange across the cosmos. Like a speckled robin’s egg, the twinklers shown in no visible pattern; everything was simply in its proper order. This could not be by my hand in any way, shape, or form. My world is a dot amongst trillions of spheres—it skims the surface of all a world could be. I want to go there; I affirm while staring at the vastness of the void. I want to see all that could be. Then I fell. Like an architect atop the Tower of Babel, I was thrown from my rocket and tossed back to Earth. I dreamed too far, and reality shut down my spaceship along with millions of others. I hope the galaxy will live to be traversed another millennium. II:
“Adhesive” (otherwise known as “Fix It All”)
During the fall, it’s easy to pray the landing will not be harsh, but when effects are finally felt, pain overtakes the body. The universe was cracking, and I had no control over the fragments. Every star that ever shined in the twilight was dazzling in the dust, amid rocks and dirt. The grass must’ve been beside itself with the galaxy’s gift; I’m disgusted I didn’t get the chance to glue my pathways back together immediately. 6 Pillars of Salt
While everyone else picked at their pieces of stardust, I sat in a haze, stunned into submission by the sudden stop of time. And maybe, just maybe, time stopped for no man that day, but every woman felt the chill. Sometimes I still look into the sky and search for the stars I once longed to play with. Like toys in a toddler’s arms, how I took the void’s diamonds for granted! My rocket is broken, the jet stream’s dispersed and then some. I want to say I’m alone, like the old cliché calls for—--but those of us that are left are still out into the dirt, searching for the glass specks. I continue to gaze up, lost in my smog. How long will it take us to find them all? III:
“Understandably Frantic” (the epilogue)
Eventually, my cloudy mind will receive the galactic messages being sent. Already I feel myself waking with the urgency of an unfulfilled martyr. I know I haven’t done enough yet; I could almost think I was the reason that dusk settled on dust. My words are meaningless drivel on paper until the sentences have structure pleasing to their ears! And until my face is pleasing to their eyes. Inspiration-the only reason left for our meager existence. The skywalkers, the moonshakers; now we pick at the mud and wallow in our lost cause. Why? The usual question. I know I haven’t done enough yet. However, there is enough to be done to the point where giving up is a notion best left under the stones that buried our stars. I cannot do enough, but that is why I must simply do. Who would stand on broken glass and let their wounds infect their soles? My clothes will not care when I’m gone. My beautiful life will lie with the dreams I left behind if I let the glass slice my feet. I WILL Pillars of Salt 7
DIG THROUGH DIRT, SLUSH IN MUD—EVERY LAST FRAGMENT WILL BE FOUND. And if I have my way, the sky will shine again, first crystal blue, then a deep violet, and finally As black as squid ink. Our sky... speckled as a robin’s egg... I swear to see all that could be. [Inspired by kickthePj, Doddleoddle, and the phrase “Ours is not to question why, ours is but to do or die.”]
Lena Jones (‘20)
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Ingrid Sant (‘17) Pillars of Salt 9
Muse Exchange my blood for turpentine; my skin with marble. Allow my tongue to dine on dried out watercolors and crumbling pastels. Limbs hidden in a wasteland of white canvas. Monochrome. Picture-perfect like the sea– I see. My god your eyes– like tiny glass shards– are filled with ink. How beautiful it looks to me: the colors drifting and freckled– sculpted into a dark brown. I see you. The way your body shifts and tilts along the axis of your spine; A wooden pencil. Then your delicate, porcelain fingers fumble upward– reaching– reach up towards the sky. Talia Natoli (‘17)
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Icy Touch Rose Shulman-Litwin (‘18) Pillars of Salt 11
This Person Below lies a short series of simple questions. Your answers to these questions will allow me to further understand your psychological makeup on a broader scale, therefore I strongly urge you to answer all of the questions truthfully, in order for me to accurately evaluate you to the best of my ability. Respond to the following: Do you lie? Explain your reasoning. Constantly. Lying is the best way to avoid hurting other people and I don’t understand why it is frowned upon. Do you read the speed limits when driving? (Skip if not applicable) Is this a trick question? I need to keep my eyes on the road. No driver should be reading anything while behind the wheel. Speed limit signs are a danger to everyone and should probably not exist. How often do you bathe? I try to avoid bathing whenever possible to conserve water. Do you go out of your way to “level the playing field”? Yeah. I have super bad anxiety, and no one gets it, so every once and awhile I’ll go missing, like fake a kidnapping or something to make people understand what it’s like to have my level of anxiety. It’s only fair that way. Do you consider your OCD a burden? (Skip if not applicable) No not really. No not really. No not really.
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Do you ever find yourself losing focus in the classroom? Can’t lose something I never had. Are you one to brag? Definitely not. I’m an extremely modest person. And that’s a hard thing to be when you’re living in LA so it’s something I take a lot of pride in. Do you wake up looking forward to the day? Depends on what my horoscope says. How many steps are there to happiness? I think it’s different for everyone. For me there are 12. Chloe Hoberman (‘17)
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Cannibal Rose Shulman Litwin (‘18) 14 Pillars of Salt
Flags Down The TV flashes with screams and colors. They say “We Shall Overcome”. They cry out “We Matter”. But no one seems to hear them. They express their fears, Or maybe their hatred? There are some who are worried, Concerned about their futures. About our future. There are some who shed tears, even blood, As a way to display their disappointment. Disappointment… It feels like someone gripping your throat harshly, Yet not choking you. Like a bubble of positive aura that will soon burst. But then what? The white flag waves in the distance now. They cheer out of happiness or desperation. But they shoot the person who carries it, And the flag goes down. Red. White. Blue. Liberty, Justice, Equality. It waves around so innocently in the sky. But they shoot it down too. Dominique White (‘18) Pillars of Salt 15
The Dream of Meeting Your Younger Self Every year after my birthday, I dream the same dream. This year it was the same. I dreamt of a red balloon, the bright red orb from my childhood. I followed the string it was tied to, the ribbons catching my eye. The string was just long enough and just short enough that I was always so close and too far to reach. I followed it through lush forests and golden plains, and over silent mountains and blossoming hills. I followed it for what seemed like seconds, years, lifetimes. I followed the bright red orb until I no longer could, until I lost it over a cliff. I watched the receding image of the balloon, watched it travel over an ocean of the deepest midnight, it could only be possible in a dream, feeling heartbroken over my loss. The waters did their best to console me with their steady, rolling tides and sounds. Lost in my misery and focus on the object of my desire, I failed to notice the young girl directly in front of me. I turned my head down and my eyes met her sweet and serene face. Everything about her seemed so familiar. She was unburdened by any clothing. I noticed she was flat-chested; nature had not yet encumbered her with the body of a woman. She was covered in mud; her hair was matted; she was wild. Within her, I sensed endless paradoxes: she looked young, but felt ancient; she seemed calm, yet her eyes belied a storm within. She stood over the edge of the cliff seemingly unconcerned that her feet hovered on air. She stood there balancing on her own certitude, and the sight of her brought me to tears. She grabbed my hand, and grabbed my hand, and grabbed and cradled my hand. She held my hands in her own and looked on as I cried. I stared into her dry eyes with my overflowing ones and recognized myself. She and I were one in the same, but not. She stood there with so many of my experiences yet to be had. She stood there with a completeness I had forgotten and lost within myself. She grabbed my hand, and grabbed 16 Pillars of Salt
my hand, and grabbed my hand, and grabbed, and grabbed, and grabbed, and cradled my hand. She grabbed and cradled my hands, my infinite hands, until she didn’t. Omari Benjamin (‘18)
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Stained Rose Shulman-Litwin (‘18) 18 Pillars of Salt
Guns “I got you a nerf gun,” the boy’s mother said “Go check it out. It’s lying on your bed.” The boy ran through the kitchen screaming, “I’m gonna shoot!” He laughed for hours harmlessly pointing at the fruit The little boy grew and his toys did as well “It’s a paintball gun, son,” his father began to tell “Gear up in a vest. We’re gonna take the thing out” “I’m gonna be great, Dad!” The boy began to shout Now a young man, he had a collection of his own He went out and shot them when he was feeling alone But his life began to darken and he couldn’t bare another day So he took out his feelings in what he knew the only way “I’m gonna shoot!” the once little boy said By 11:05, 46 reported dead. Erica Dick (‘18)
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Uncanny My dog runs ahead. The sunlight is golden and Dappled through the leaves. I am left alone And the silence is too much, Too familiar. The blood in my mouth Rushes through my ears, roaring. A deafening wave. I feel a warm breeze And my dog’s fur brushes up Against my left leg. I can smell the grass, Crisp and sweet. I close my eyes. The world keeps turning. Lina Jegeus (‘17)
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Twilight India Halsted (‘17) Pillars of Salt 21
Emily DeLossa (’20) 22 Pillars of Salt
Emily DeLossa (’20) Pillars of Salt 23
Turritopsis Dohrnii They were sitting on the dock and they were staring at the black ocean. The waves were vicious. The moon was oppressive. Her hands were shaking. “It’s okay,” he told her. “I don’t think I can do it,” she said. “Come on. We’ve been talking about this for months.” She looked down at the pill in her hand. It was smooth and round. She rubbed it between two fingers and it reminded her of brass. She thought about merry-go-rounds. “We’ll do it on three,” he said. She hesitated. “Okay,” she replied. “One.” She held her breath. She remembered the chipped paint of the horses and the summer dresses and the music. “Two.” “Wait--” “Three.” 24 Pillars of Salt
“--I can’t.” But before the words could escape her throat he had already swallowed the pill. “What are you doing?” he yelled. “I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” “Take the goddamn pill!” She put her hand on his leg, which was becoming soft and mushy. “I don’t think I can go through with this.” “Why the hell not? Do you not love me or something?” “I do! I do!” “So why won’t you take the pill!” “Because the pill is too round and too smooth and because I don’t want to live forever.” He grew quiet. His silence, like tentacles, stung. “Listen,” she said, her voice growing frantic. “Once my mom gave me a twenty-dollar bill and told me that I could ride this merry-go-round in a park by my house as many times as I wanted. I rode it all afternoon and it got so damn boring. I was nauseous as hell. If she had only given me a dollar and I had only ridden that thing once, I would have had the time Pillars of Salt 25
of my life. You know what I’m saying?” He didn’t respond. The garish light of the moon reflected off of his skin. It was slightly translucent now, and the sight of his veins brought her to tears. “I’ve just realized that the reason why life is so incredible is because we are all going to die someday,” she said, tears flowing. “Things are beautiful because we know that they will end.” “Take the damn pill,” he said through teeth that were growing loose. His bones were disintegrating. “Listen!” She was yelling now. “You would stop loving me if we were eternal, and I would not love you.” He could not speak. His body was almost jelly. “We didn’t think this through enough. We didn’t realize how goddamn lucky we are to be mortal, how lucky we are to be able to die.” She looked next to her. He had completed his transformation into a jellyfish. A Turritopsis dohrnii to be precise -- the only species that lives forever. Her tears turned to sobs. She sobbed and she sobbed, and she picked up the gelatinous mass that used to be her lover and hugged it tightly. It stung her arms but she did not care. She looked out into the ocean and noticed how beautifully the moon shimmered off the waves. She knew that the way the light was hitting the earth at that moment
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was temporary, and she knew that the moon would give way to the sun in a matter of hours. She threw the jellyfish into the waves and walked home. Lulu Cerone (‘17)
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Thoughts Had While Babysitting Why are children always out of breath when they are talking to you? Oh my god, I’m an amazing babysitter.1 The “Shrek 2” soundtrack is honestly ridiculous. Children have no shame in regards to their bodies.2 For dinner tonight, I ate nine gluten free chicken nuggets, a can of mango La Croix, and a mocha Healthy Grains Kind Bar. These children ate sushi. Where can I get energy like this?3 These kids really don’t like it when I talk during movies.4 I cannot believe I’m getting paid to do this.5 1. I was able to correctly identify the goddess each of this girl’s barbies was named after (Athena, Hera, and Diana) 2. I met this kid an hour ago and now she is fully nude in front of me. 3. This girl just straight-up moshed for a solid 20 minutes during the free dance portion of our evening. 4. I was reciting too many of the words to Richard Linklater’s masterpiece “School of Rock.” I also apparently asked too many questions while watching “Percy Jackson: The Lightning Thief,” but, okay, have you seen that movie? They literally leave the black friend trapped in hell with Persephone. 5. “This” meaning dressing a seven year old to look like Mulan and having her fight her brother for China. Carly Feldman (‘17)
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Emily Delossa (‘20) Pillars of Salt 29
Wonderland I’m not Alice, And Happy Unbirthday to you. What does that even mean? Her fingers cringed, her knuckles burnt. “I think I’m catching on fire,” she said. So be it. Jane Austen Society
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Miayunique South (‘19) Pillars of Salt 31
Skittles Sarah Walston (’17) 32 Pillars of Salt
She and He She told herself she wouldn’t. She said she could stop. She even believed herself. Yet she did it, the one thing she told herself she wouldn’t do. She knew it was wrong, her Mother had told her all her life. She knew she was becoming just like Him. His actions had left scars on her memory, the times where he said he would stop. All along her back, the marks that never seemed to fade. In the night when the smoke filled the room, she breathed in the familiar scent, she knew it was bad. Whenever He got like this, the smoke would get to him and He’d hurt Her. He said he would stop too, but he didn’t, he got worse and worse. He was sinking in his own mistakes. How could he not understand, he was destroying himself. She couldn’t let that happen to herself. She wanted to stay close to Him and the only way to do that was to fall into his old habits. The ones that messed him up so well he couldn’t fix it. He went to rehab for his mistakes, but they couldn’t stop Him. She tried to fix Him, while She was slowly getting worse. The doctor told her she had a chance of becoming like Him, “drug addictions are hereditary”, he said. One night, she watched as the smoke left her mouth, making silver patterns in the air and then she realized; she was just like Him. She didn’t know you can’t fix someone when you’re also broken. Kat McKay (‘20)
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Tea Time “Hey! Come in Elias. Key’s under the mat,” I yelled down the wooden stairs at the sound of the doorbell ringing. I had asked him to come by around four, and currently it was 4:11. He meandered up the stairs, taking his time to pick up the little red cactus in its little terracotta pot that I had made in the seventh grade. Elias set it down and peered at its match, the yellow succulent in the other pot that he had made in the same ceramics class. The walls surrounding the stairs were littered with photos, mementos, trophies, and other little treasures from my childhood. The once white walls were splattered with sticky notes, photo frames, and thumb tack holes. It was my favorite part of my apartment, and I had been turning it into my personal museum since the first day I brought home a painting from school. “Oh come on! We’ve got work to do,” I scolded. “We’ve got time to spare… it’s only four juuuuust,” he waited for his father’s old watch to tick four, “now”. Elias glanced up at me. His mess of long brown curls fell into his eyes, a curtain in front of the myriad of little freckles dusted across his nose and cheeks. Why do the most unavailable people have to be the most attractive ones? He brushed it out of the way compulsively, and his pale green eyes met mine. I scowled. “That watch is always late, and you know it! Let’s just get to work while we still have time,” I muttered. “Ivy…”. Elias smiled sheepishly, pulling his hair away from his face. “Okay, your sister’s birthday party starts at eight tonight?” I inquired. He nodded. “I’m a little nervous to be honest.” “Why?” “Um... I’m anxious to talk to Harper - finally tell her how I feel,” he stuttered. 34 Pillars of Salt
“Oh come on Elias, a guy like you? She’ll be happy you finally fessed up to your feelings,” I laughed. “A guy like me… what’s that supposed to mean?” Elias’ face reddened. “You’re cute. You’re nice. Sometimes, that’s all a girl can ask for,” I managed to get out. Why did I say that? Elias wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Oh, fine. Your personality is alright too.” I giggled. He laughed. “You’ll be great, I just know it.” I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, my auburn hair falling in waves across his neck. Elias gave my hands a quick squeeze and promptly shook me off, walking towards the kitchen. “Let’s just get started,” he said dismissively. I wondered why he was acting so distant; he’d never ended a hug early before. “I was thinking - your mom’s pretzels? You know how good they are. I don’t possibly think she could turn me down after having a few,” he stated. My mother is from the state of Bavaria in Germany, where the best pretzels in the world are made. She taught me her recipe when I was nine, and I’ve been making them ever since. “Genius,” I said. Elias turned from me and headed toward the pantry to grab a few things, so I went to the fridge to grab the butter. He returned a few moments later, balancing bread flour, salt, yeast, syrup, and baking soda all in his arms, and looking like a complete idiot. “Oh for the love of Christ! Set those down before you spill all over the floor”. He grabbed the malt syrup and began to pour it into a large mixing bowl. When there was no more syrup to be poured, I got up and cut in the butter. He ducked around me to sift in the flour and salt, and accidentally sprinkled some on my shirt. “Ivy I’m so sorry,” he rushed. In turn, I reached into the flour bag and sprinkled some flour onto his hair. It cascaded down and left his brown locks greyed and settled onto the peak of his shoulders. “It’s called payback,” I laughed. He lunged for me with a small handful of flour and… time was a blur. It felt as if we’d never grown up, that we could still be in kindergarten playing stupid games and goofing off in class. I snapped back to reality when the flour hit my shirt and fell to the floor. “Elias!” He laughed, and returned to working on the dough. We played a little game of back and forth, this ingredient then that one, Pillars of Salt 35
for a while until a dough was formed. I turned it out onto the counter and began to knead it, digging my hands into the plushy dough. “So how are you gonna tell her?” I glanced up at him, “You said you’ve felt this way for a long time.” “Yeah it’s been pretty hard keeping it all in. I was just going to ask her out after we cut the cake. You know that magical moment when everyone has gotten their birthday cake and they all just spread out and begin talking to each other? And you forget how weird the world is because there’s this slice of vanilla cake with strawberries inside of it and it just tastes so good? Maybe I’ll ask her out for tea then.” I rolled the dough over between my palms. “Not every girl likes tea Elias,” I laughed, “we need to get you some more female friends. Ask her to get a coffee with you sometime. Tell her then. You wouldn’t want your mom to overhear you declare your feelings in the midst of baby Meg’s party.” A strand of my reddish hair flew into my face, and I reached up to pluck it away, only to realize my hands were covered in dough. Elias pulled his hand towards my face and brushed it out of the way. “Thanks.” Elias blushed, and I felt my own cheeks heat. “Alright- over coffee. You win, Ivy. Shouldn’t we start shaping these pretzels? They look about done.” I nodded. He went over to the stove and put on a pot of water to boil. He looked so peaceful, beautiful in the afternoon light. I watched him pour baking soda into the pot, and turn back to face me. “Rolls or pretzels?” We locked eyes. “Both.” We began to shape the dough, stretching it and pulling it, tying it and rolling it into shape. Elias looked as if he wanted to say something, but I never asked. When we were all done, we began to boil the pretzels in the baking soda bath, plunking them in one after another. I caught him staring at my face, and brought it up. “You okay? You seem distracted,” I wondered out loud. 36 Pillars of Salt
“I’m alright. Just nervous is all.” “I know it’s scary, but you seem really worked up about this. You really must like her.” In that moment, I was filled with an incredible sense of jealously. How was I supposed to be so selflessly supportive when I felt this way? He meant so much to me and I couldn’t bear to see him with someone else. “Yeah… she means alot to me. We get along really well, and she’s just so damn funny. Harper makes me a better person, and she’s just so beautiful too. Have you seen her hair? Guys don’t usually notice hair that often, but it’s just such an amazing auburn.” He appeared lost in thought. But… Harper was blonde- what the hell? “Elias- she’s blonde! Are you crazy?” I reached up to twirl my own auburn locks. “Shit! I uh… I just meant-” His eyes looked like they were trying to escape from his own body. His face reddened and a look of pure shame came across his face. “Do you mean- are you talking about me?” “I mean, I just…” He glanced around the room. “Yes. I’m talking about you. I’m sick of being shy about this. Everything I said about Harper… it’s all about you. Ivy, I’ve known that I really really like you, maybe even love you for such a long time now, that this doesn’t even feel real. How can I even be saying this out loud? I was so afraid to tell you- not just for your reaction, but for our parents’, and for my sister- you know she thinks of you as a big sister right? Ivy, I’ve been in love with you ever since you first tried to braid my hair in ninth grade. I’ve loved you ever since you begged my mom to let you stay over for a whole week just so you could help her out after little Meg was born. I’ve loved you since forever began.” Oh. My. God. I plunked the last pretzel into the boiling water. Was I dreaming? “Elias I – I don’t know what to say. I didn’t ever even think, I never Pillars of Salt 37
considered that you liked me like that. This whole thing with Harperwhy would you do that? If you like me, I just don’t understand!” “It was all a lie. I tried to distract myself from loving you. It obviously didn’t work. Oh my god why would I assume you felt the same way? I’m sorry Ivy, maybe I should just leave,” he muttered. I pulled out the last pretzel roll. “No! Please, I just need some time to think this over! Just stay until the pretzels are done. Forty-five minutes in the oven. That’s all,” I pleaded. “No Ivy, I need to go.” “Okay! Okay, fine. I’ll bring the pretzels to the party and see where we go from there.” “Ivy-”. I glared furiously at him. “I’ll see you then.” Elias stammered out of my kitchen and down the wooden stairs. The door slammed and I sat down under the kitchen table. What have I done? After a few minutes I got up and put the pretzels in the damned oven. ––––––––––– I arrived at Elias’ apartment at 8:30 PM, half an hour late. His mom let me in, and after a quick hug and hello and handing over of the pretzels, I ventured to the back of the living room. The last words of Happy Birthday rang throughout the cramped room, and everyone cheered. I joined the crowd and got a slice of strawberry filled cake. Elias caught my eye, and so I led him to a couch near the porch. “Elias?” “Yeah?” “Take me out for tea sometime.” Anna Allgeyer (‘18) 38 Pillars of Salt
Josie Gordon (‘20) Pillars of Salt 39
The Impact of Kind Words Crystal drops slid down her pale skin Her silky soft pink robe stroked it too She toweled off her damp blonde hair She was meeting him tonight She took the cold damp strands Plugged in the smooth black dryer Hot air began to blow She was meeting him tonight Her hair was now fluffed and brushed She tied her golden locks in a red ribbon It took twenty minutes to perfect it She was meeting him tonight Her dainty hands clasped around a cold bottle She twisted it open and began painting Her nails were now dark red with a glossy sheen She was meeting him tonight She slipped off her robe A cold chill crawled over her bare skin And she carefully slipped on her red velvet dress She was meeting him tonight She felt pride when she hadn’t ruined her hair When the dress looked perfect on her It covered her arms, her stomach looked flat She was meeting him tonight 40 Pillars of Salt
She would carefully arrange her hair when she laid down She would grasp the note she had drafted for weeks She would take the pills two by two She was meeting him tonight As she made her way to her room Her phone lit up with a message ‘You looked cute today at school’ Perhaps she wouldn’t meet him tonight Bella Tuffias-Mora (‘18)
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Ties The noise was the most unbearable part. It rang, and it rained. Sirens. Up, down, Muffled by the fall. No one heard a bit. Everyone’s mouths were gaping, angry, Incredible. The faces? Jagged teeth, mad Snarling, foam filling mouths, eyes all Nixed embers, cold coals. And hope? Cast Out, tossed to a dark roadside. Oh, Atlas, Why bear Earth if you’re already crushed? Might there be union in this? There’s no Reason to think it, yet we’ll wonder. People torn stitched back together. Real for some, for others a dream. Ending an era? Build a new one. Say, won’t it be worse than the last? Idle talk. Not a soul knows a thing. Doom, destruction, even death? Enlightenment, or excellence? Nothing but a crossroads. The matter is the way. Natalie Goldstein (’18)
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Ingrid Sant (‘17) Pillars of Salt 43
Self Portrait India Halsted (’17) 44 Pillars of Salt
Gilda Marie heels on the wood she once strode down we all knew her path in this holy town cloak sweeping over the cold gray stones skin drawing tight over aching bones hands for the books hidden under the gloves eyes like milk and glass in her blood Caroline Ediger (‘19)
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Anthems of the Middle School Dance Clammy palms and training bras. Sweat stains and growing pains. Short boys too old for toys. To them the music is just noise. “I have to pee!” Thought Jimmy C. But had no time ‘cause he was next in line To go down the lane with Mary-Jane Who later cried, “My ankle’s sprained!” Donald R. can’t see too far ‘Cause his specs got wrecked By Big Mary-Beth Who takes big stomps instead of steps. Reggie picks his wedgie And discovers something smelly. Kate and Chris try to kiss Between their braces and chapped lips. Mr. Roth watches the clock But to his dismay it’s only six-twenty-eight. Blonde Jess spilled punch on her dress And now Michael can’t stop staring at her breasts. The girls fix their pearls In the lavatory, telling stories About how their crush made them blush When he grazed their elbows accidentally. Though it all really seems to fly by... Once out of Junior High. Gabriella Weltman (‘17) 46 Pillars of Salt
The Web In the half dark, Iris pushed her glasses up her nose and began quietly to tear away at her cuticles. The white board contained remains of a class on Shakespeare. Iambic pentameter mostly. Iris recognized it. She had done the exact same thing last year. “I think it’s just a drill.” The teacher sank down beside Iris under the desk and twisted her hair around one shoulder with her right hand. Iris was fascinated at the shortness of her fingernails. She couldn’t imagine how they had ended up that way. “A funny day for this to happen,” the teacher said. Iris didn’t think it was funny at all. Something banged down the hall and both women jumped. Today they were supposed to have a school assembly and they were going to remember everyone who had died. This basically meant that Mr. Stevenson, the principal, would talk with a sad face on, wipe away a tear or two and be greeted with enthusiastic applause (from the faculty). Iris wasn’t planning to go to that anyway, so she didn’t have to worry about missing it. Plenty of empty bathrooms to hide in. Iris murmured, “If it was a drill they probably would have told you.” “Well, yes, probably.” “So then it isn’t.” The teacher didn’t reply. Iris began to count the amount of people who had died. Greg, who had gone to get a hotdog before 1st period Science class. Jennifer, arriving on a plane from being away. Charlie who jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge after his dad jumped from the 106th floor window. Pillars of Salt 47
Ms. Albetta, the art teacher. Mr. Barrow, director of admissions. Benjamin, the kid unfortunately fascinated by explosions. Jenny.
The teacher was new and from Cincinnati. The teacher was new and she hadn’t been there. Iris’ cuticles had begun to bleed. “Do you want something for that?” “No thank you.” “Are you okay?” 1,2,3,4,5,6,7. Seven people. Iris could feel them beside her now. They were very distracting. The teacher had said something. “What?” “I said- are you okay?” “Oh.” It was getting darker. “Um.” Words were very difficult. “Well, I was just thinking about how I’m going to miss Spanish class and we were going to make guacamole.” That was what she was thinking. It was very trivial. She remembered reading a story once about a girl whose mother was killed in a car accident. The mother had died at 8:34 PM and during that time the girl was thinking in anger about the stupid book she had to read for English class. And her mother was dead. She turned to the teacher.
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“You see my problem is that I’m always worrying about what I’m thinking. Because I want to be thinking the right thing when the next person dies.” “I’m not sure what you mean.” “I mean I don’t want to be thinking about something dumb like what kind of milk is best, whole or 2 percent (which obviously 2 percent is better) when my mom dies.” “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about Iris. Everyone is going to be okay today.” She just couldn’t get it, Iris supposed. This woman with round glasses and red lips and “professional” jeans and a “professional” shirt and it was then that Iris understood that it was the professionalism of it all that made it impossible for the teacher to understand her. There was no use being angry about it. “It’s very important what I am trying to say,” Iris began cautiously, aware that professionalism is one of the most dangerous things. “What I’m trying to say is that I will die and when I do no one will be thinking of me. And this is sad and so I am always thinking about what I am thinking about so I can be thinking the right thing at exactly the right time.” She didn’t look at The Teacher. The Teacher said, “I am sure that someone will be thinking of you when you die.” The Teacher said this in a very teacher-y voice. The Teacher did not say “I blame myself sometimes.” The Teacher did not say “It was not your fault a bunch of men decided to hijack planes and fly into two buildings on a day when the sky was much too blue.” The Teacher did not say “I will think of you when you die.” The Teacher did not say “I see you.” She did not say “It is okay.”
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The Teacher didn’t say any of this.
Iris thought sometimes that she saw the faces of the buildings in people walking by her. Their souls running and leaving blue threads all along Broadway and Central Park West and 14th street. She never saw Jenny’s face because Jenny was gone. All of the people were gone. But it seemed as if the buildings were still running, screaming through the streets. Livia Blum (‘19)
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Ingrid Sant (‘17) Pillars of Salt 51
11:11pm in the coolness of the night, when your head was resting on my shoulder your breathing shallow and steady empty orange soda cans and empty dorito bags scattered at our feet time slowed to a stop unwinded itself like a film reel the hands on the alarm clock melted to lines the television screen dissolved to static numbers and letters sinking to the bottom of the still pool of darkness shadows and shapes stretching across the cold, lonely room you were there the soda and chips were there but when your eyes fluttered open and your lips parted to form a greeting i was left with the ghost of you once again. Audrey Koh (‘17)
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Fairies Rose Shulman-Litwin (‘18) Pillars of Salt 53
A Nutty Day At Archer: Observations of A Squirrel I just wanted to steal food from some lunches but I’m not a gluten free, soy-free, paleo vegan. Ugh, I should really clean myself up. I’ve really let myself go. Just look at my winter coat. I used to get mistaken for Chip of Chip and Dale and now I look like Scrat from Ice Age. Two khaki skirts bob angrily as they quarrel. I think they bought the same dress from Un Deux Trois, and now neither of them can go to the middle school dance. I wonder what Un Deux Trois is, and if they have good acorns. I try to sleep, but no! All these girls round here are screaming. Apparently some cute guy walked on campus and now everyone’s flustered… I mean yeah, I was flustered when he gave me some peanuts, but it was more for the peanuts than for him. Why do they let these disgusting, conniving creatures inside? They’re dangerous. A dog killed my uncle, you know. There’s the phone! There’s an email! There’s a child! There’s the phone! There’s the phone again! Gee, I’ve never seen a woman as focused as this Stone lady before. Sometimes I get sad and my body feels hollow, devoid of acorns and meaning.
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What smells so bad? Oh gosh, it’s another rodent being dissected in that biology class! RUN! The English is coming, the English is coming! I don’t know what’s so amusing about those little rectangles everyone holds so close to their faces. They’re so bright, how are they not blind yet? I’ve been here five minutes and I think I already need glasses. Sometimes I watch the bald man through the window from a large green plain. His mannerisms amuse me. His coffee mug and his clothing are always color coordinated. It’s fascinating. Just look at his head, it’s so shiny, it reminds me of an acorn. Oh no. He mentioned Max again. What is this peculiar dance move children seem to be into nowadays? They shove their face into one elbow and raise the other arm as they yell, “Dab!” Can it be used to whack nuts off trees? Look at them, kicking that ball around like it matters. Life is an empty void. Now off to Bellw-In Memoriam of Squirrel Mcgenski (2009-2017) Pillars of Salt Staff
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