Category:Words

Waltz with Elliot

Peter Iannitto

He’d have no momentum to continue if it weren’t for the smack in his veins. He doesn’t get his kicks from the stage anymore. As the last note of his orchestration fades away we’re left with a sad, frightened man, mumbling into the microphone, kindly asking the audience to stop yelling requests. He stares at the floor, recoiling into his shoulders, terrified.

I Like, I Love.

Allison Laroche

I like making lists. I like drinking with people, but I dislike being drunk. I like things I find in lost-in-found, thrift shops, and old vests my mother brings me from her youth. And I like that, too. Youth. I like the lingering scent of mine, when I think about it. Hot summer days trigger that sensation. Cigarette smoke, (maybe clove cigarettes, as well) Egyptian goddess oil mixed with sweat, cheap car fresheners, pumpkin lattes, and tanning lotion.

My Walk

Bartosz Mrugacz

I remember that sunny May evening in Warsaw. I was walking down the Krakowskie Przedmiescie towards the gates of the Old Town, where I was supposed to meet my friend. I felt this refreshing wind mixed with warm sunbeams on my face. The sun was still up above roofs of Warsaw’s tenement houses from the 19th century. I was not thinking about anything in particular. I was walking alone, enjoying the cloudless sky.

Mi Nidito

Allison Laroche

People tend to disappoint me. They are weak and dependent on one another. For as long as I can remember, I have been alone. I have been on my own emotionally, spiritually, intellectually, financially, and physically. I look around at my closest surroundings, the college I attend, the establishment that I work at, the inconsiderate and polluted streets filled with inconsiderate and polluted people, and my nest. I live alone. I am incapable of living with another person.

One Penny

Sarah Rogowski

My eyes are round and wide like apples as the bundle of buildings grow bigger. My parents are in the front seat and my older brother is beside me, picking through the latest Mad Magazine. I roll my forehead against the window as I stare at the cardboard cut-out buildings in the distance. My favorites are the twin towers.