Archive

Strangers

image of someone's features through blurred window

SARAH WU
I see you on the bus first. Or maybe, it’s you who senses me, turning around just enough for our eyes to meet. Somehow, past the friend I am talking to, past the earbuds pressed tightly against your ears, our eyes lock. You are skinnier than I remember. Age has sharpened your cheekbones, stolen the roundness from your cheeks. The nest of brown pine needles on your head has softened, curling gently at the tips. It is hard to imagine them as the same rat hair your mom used to comb through, her fingers gently untangling the knots, the burrs in your curls….Continue Reading Strangers

Passing

photo of flowers

MIKAYAH PARSONS
You came to me in seasons. / In summer, you were bright and full of life. / You climbed your way up the staircase on all fours / And dared me to do the same. / You had a nice smile, / So I listened to you. // I tripped over those stairs. / That summer was a series of awkward renditions, / With me squeamishly asking for your pat­ience / As we traversed the great unknown….Continue Reading Passing

Fall Relapse

image of yellow and black person sitting

ZOE ALARCON
As the leaves succumb to a coral shade / You’re reminded of your own freshness / How with each summer comes as naturally a deep renewal / A solidifying of insights / But its fragile underpinnings are also suddenly more visible / And the trees’ tactless, rapid shedding / rekindle your sympathy for your own dead leaves…Continue Reading Fall Relapse

Decomposition

drawing of a purple woman wearing a mushroom hat

MAGGIE WU
Autumn in New England always strikes me as an ostentatiously formal affair in which one pulls out their finest wool and leather silhouettes, all in the most somber umbers and teals and siennas. And the dynamic frenzy of summer air crystallizes itself to clarity, a percussive precision dearly embraced. There are colors, too, that convey a taste of sweetness as the leaves caramelize to browns, oranges, apples— apples dipped in maple glazes and chocolate. The mountains are brightly foiled in dark ferns and the sun frosts the valley in maple….Continue Reading Decomposition

I Saw the Edge of Death in a Dunkin Donuts

image of dunkin donuts swallowed by blue hole

LELAND CULVER
“Why are so many people getting Dunkin Donuts at 2pm on a Sunday?” / That was the question that started it all. I was driving to get groceries with Nicole and Elena—Elena was driving—and on our way out of the little strip mall parking lot, we had to navigate through the Dunkin Donuts drive-through line, which had somehow grown long enough to overflow from the space around the store….Continue Reading I Saw the Edge of Death in a Dunkin Donuts

If I Let It Happen

photo of a green field with sun

QUINCY SMITH
The inside of my palms are dirty / From the concrete blocks I sat on // The concrete was pressing against my palm / Creating a print in shape of pebbles // I look down and see the shape this concrete drew on my hand / My fists clench and unclench // Almost as if its searching for feeling / Almost as if i’m not feeling and I need to move to feel…Continue Reading If I Let It Happen

Wild Pitch

SARA ATTIA
(Why do you love what you love / Why do you love how you love / Couldn’t you find something better to do / (No, probably not.) // Francis wasn’t much of a lover. But what he loved, he loved to the point of pain.)…Continue Reading Wild Pitch

The Ivory Tower

drawing of a house

THOMAS BRODEY
It’s not often that you want to escape something you love. And yet often, that’s how I feel about my alma mater. A liberal arts education is like nothing else in the world. Much like Rapunzel in her tower, we hear about the world outside, from a passing bird perhaps, or a glimpse of a far off land. We paint what we cannot see on the walls, and hone our minds and hands so that we can portray with perfect realism an image we have.
…Continue Reading The Ivory Tower

Synthesis

drawing of seaweed underwater

LELAND CULVER
So I’m a hiker. Since I was little, I’ve been in love with nature. I’ve been through forests, canyons, prairie-country, even took an extended trip through the Sonoran. I’d like to walk the whole Appalachian trail someday. Can you imagine that? Surrounded on all sides by forested ridges, the noontime sun filtering calmly through the canopy. I’d need the money, though, and the time off work. Still, everywhere I go, I try to take the chance to hike….Continue Reading Synthesis

What the Fuck is Self Care

abstract drawing of an angel/monster

ARI DENGLER
There is a wolf trapped inside of me. The wolf gnaws at the soft skin of my belly, digging sharp claws into whatever vulnerable flesh it deems suitable. It is ravished and unpleased, pacing up and down my spine, soft paws sending silent shocks throughout my body. Its howls emerge as sobs, its yaps as nervous chatter. I despise the wolf, despise its hunger for happiness, a hunger that leaves me drained, dull, deprived….Continue Reading What the Fuck is Self Care

An Alphabet of Film Studies Under Quarantine

YASMIN HAMILTON
B is for Barthes, Roland. In particular, his 1979 essay “Upon Leaving the Movie Theater,” my favorite piece of writing on the syllabus of my freshman year film studies course. Barthes explores the pre- and post-viewing condition of the movie-goer—what he calls the “cinematic condition.” He describes the condition of the viewer before seeing a movie in Freudian terms: as “pre-hypnotic,” the viewer having a “‘crepuscular reverie’” that draws them to submit themself to the “anonymous, indifferent cube of darkness” that films are (1)….Continue Reading An Alphabet of Film Studies Under Quarantine

A Brief Odyssey of Grief

black and white photo of someone staring at the sky

ZOE AKOTO
It’s something like six a.m. when I roll downstairs / and you’re already there, making coffee. // We manage smiles, faint good mornings / pre-caffeine triumphs, even on a good week, / and I slip past you, put on the tea kettle / and settle in at the end of the counter. / It’ll take longer than it should. / I still fill the kettle for two cups, / less on instinct now and more / in defiance / and I wonder when I’ll quit that….Continue Reading A Brief Odyssey of Grief

Five Til Noon

black-and-white drawing of someone lying under tree

SAM SPRATFORD
I first ran a lap in a scarlet sunrise, magenta clouds parting. Do you remember the way my hands shook as I / tied my shoelaces in the humid mist, double-knotted? Sprinting into the wind so quickly it was suffocating? / Staring at blank, ruled lines was the same and my heart was pounding as I clutched your hand in chemistry, / learning that too much oxygen could poison you. I guess there was such a thing as being too free….Continue Reading Five Til Noon

Who are you, really?

image of someone dancing

FRANCESCA DANIELS
What started as a simple Intro to Photography self-portrait assignment turned into an emotional internal dialogue and deep reflection about body, mind, and the way one sees oneself in various spheres of life. I like to think of myself as free and spirited, energetic and lively, but upon conversations with family and close friends, was reminded that this isn’t my whole story. I follow the rules, work hard, and try to plan ahead — there isn’t much free spirit in that. …Continue Reading Who are you, really?

The Art of Looking

DIEGO DUCKENFIELD-LOPEZ
I follow a mysterious woman draped in a navy-blue coat with a turquoise diamond pattern. The camera, like me, follows her steadfastly, focused on her hood, which bounces as she walks, until it falls off to reveal a messy bun of bright, blonde hair. She bolts towards the cliff, my heart matches her speed as she gets closer and closer without slowing down; I chase her desperately but the wind pushes me back…Continue Reading The Art of Looking

Cosmic Poiesis

blue outline of person dreaming of planets

JACKELINE FERNANDES
When the world crumbled last March, I hadn’t expected it to last so long that I would spin off course from my quotidian orbit around Earth, attracted by the unrelenting gravitational pull of Mars. I didn’t know it at the time, but the email correspondence with a sophomore in my Letter Writing J-term class would soon become something more, something indefinable, rooted in a mutual appreciation for the graphemic, morphological, and semantic elements of language. …Continue Reading Cosmic Poiesis

We Sell Care

cutout of a city. a hand in the middle says "We Sell Care"

MIKAYAH PARSONS
My gaze floats up to her lips, caked in red and drawn into a thin line with a slight upward tilt. She speaks as she looms behind the counter, “Yes, ma’am. So, you’ve purchased the basic package, which is really just the skeleton of the work we do here.”…Continue Reading We Sell Care

Letter from the Editor: Self-Care

Take care. Give each other care. Self-care. Be careful. Practice care. The sheer repetition of the word care slowly seeps its meaning from its form. The phrase becomes distorted, a lifeless shell of a sentiment so fundamental to life. In a global pandemic, the sentiment is well intended, yet as a greeting, a valediction, and…Continue Reading Letter from the Editor: Self-Care