Cover art by Claire Lynch

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 Claire Lynch 

Following the Sea 2 Gardening Tools  3 

Spencer Villinski  Blue and Gray Glen Plaid Hooded Sweatshirt 4 

Ali Hochfelder Mitt Chocolate Chips 5 For the Sensitive Young Man 6 

Anonymous Nevermind 7 

Dylan Tyer Barking 8 

Josie Usow Sister 9 Quarantine Collage 10 

Anonymous Bruit 11 

Landon Arace Somewhere Only We Know 12 

Kate Villinski Golden Giraffe  13 

Olivia Hart The Snowy Day’s Views  14 

Amelia Reis Presents 15 Man with Balloons  16 

Emma Sorrentino Special Olympics  17 

Anonymous Untitled 18 

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Following the Sea

By Claire Lynch

Stepping into a pool of light collecting on the pavement, Jordan emerged from the forest. The neckline of his shirt was stretched, peeking through a half-zipped sweatshirt speckled with mud. His shoes, once white canvas sneakers, were soden from a three-day journey through loose soil and salty Atlantic water. His blue eyes darted to his left and right, searching under an untamed head of light-brown hair. He clung to a Jansport with a sense of protectiveness that one would equate to a mother carrying her newborn. The scene was uneasy, exposing the endeavors of a boy running away from home. A passerby glanced at him with concern, but quickly averted their eyes, as if pretending to not see the boy rendered them unaccountable for his well-being. Much like a stray dog, Jordan trekked along the side of the road through tall grass that fluttered like feathers in a coastal breeze. The road began to curve around a bend outlined with thick pine trees, their branches severing the sunlight into a single dim beam. The change in temperature sent a chill down Jordan’s back, making him urgent to seek warmth, only his legs were lagging and his steps sluggish. He had only eaten a peanut butter sandwich packed in a folded napkin today, and the sun was already beginning to set. His mind rushed with dizziness. He felt like his feet weren’t truly his own, as if his body was a suitcase he was dragging through an airport as his consciousness raced to catch the next flight. He thought about his hunger; he thought about the last look he had given his mother; he thought about the road ahead that seemed cloudy with uncertainty. He didn’t know where he was, having followed the sound of the ocean that ran parallel to the forest that he had solemnly walked through for the past 48 hours. But despite every exhausting concern, despite every physical discomfort, there was one sentence that kept him moving; I can never return home.

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Gardening Tools By Claire Lynch

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Blue and Gray Glen Plaid Hooded Sweatshirt By Spencer Villinksi

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Mitt Chocolate Chips By Ali Hochfelder Bring your mitt to the game. I’ll bring money for cotton candy. Now your hands are sticky so You won’t even need your mitt. But you can’t play with those candies; They’re glass. And if you drop them you’ll cut your thumb. Now you're bleeding. But the neighbor is a doctor. He’ll be right over and You can have a Weight Watchers pop while you wait. He has a roll of gauze. It looks like that flowy shirt you have. Yes, I’ll have another half moon cookie. No, no, I can sleep on the cot. Do you have more melatonin drops? But you have extra toothbrushes, right? That soap smells amazing. No, no, I don’t need to take it home. No, I don’t need another cookie. The snoring won’t bother me. The white noise machine is loud And the brooke won’t stop babbling. I will be comfortable. I love the princess sheets. You’re up early. Do you want lox? Lackey is on the front page. Can I sprinkle in the chocolate chips? Wait until it bubbles I think he’s in the shower. What’s the plan today? No, we can get that at CVS at home. Should we motivate?

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For the Sensitive Young Man By Ali Hochfelder Are you a sensitive young man? Do you want to truly live? Are you “troubled”? Are you a feminist but don't have any platonic female friendships? Do you want to get rid of your “troubles” without putting in any work or changing anything about yourself? Hi we’ve got the girl for you. She’s quirky, but she has emotions. She loves dresses, but she understands football. She owns many yellow items of clothing and will point out how you’re always wearing grey, Nick or Tom or Connor or whatever the fuck your name is this time. For the low low price of zero repercussions and zero percent accountability, you can get your own Manic Pixie Dream Girl. She’ll arrive on your doorstep fully loaded with ribbons in her hair and some story about the death of her brother or her grandfather or niece, but you don't need to worry about that because her hair is so shiny and she seems so real and she’s going to fix you! We’ve got multiple types of Manic Pixie Dream Girl: musical, nerdy, sporty, and our most popular, general quirky. She’ll work perfectly when you want to see an old film or if you're the type of person who has ever used the word cinema. You’ll love the way she’ll take you on spontaneous adventures in her beat up stick shift car! Perhaps she’ll reveal her edgy side and take you skinny dipping! But be careful! Manic Pixie Dream Girl will gladly teach you about confrontation! And just as Manic Pixie Dream Girl has done her duty of making you fall in love --- with yourself -- - she'll self-destruct. But don't worry about the mess, it’s the perfect starting location for the next sensitive young man.

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Nevermind By Anonymous I am a dream that has dreams Why do you give love to yourself? What on earth does that mean? Do I believe in love? Which one? What What does it mean to believe Why do i question everything Why do i think it’s possible to question everything What is a question What is it about questioning that makes me want to attach it to my identity? What is everything Each person is a world Is that right? I want to draw again

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Barking By Dylan Tyer

Barking, Fat Ass. As if you were an animal, looked like you were unlike them. Barking, Dough Boy. stuffed with their creatine, and draped in designer clothing. Barking, Lard.

Worth more due to the supplements they take or how fast their metabolism is. Barking, Porky. Because they are athletic and wear their bulky varsity jackets. Barking, 3xl.

Teachers not giving two shits about what goes on in the background of their classroom. Barking, Hippo.

Just because of what you eat, or because they think they are worth more. Barking, Big Boy. A small poem to express a big issue.

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Sister By Josie Usow

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Quarantined COllage By Josie Usow

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Bruit By Anonymous We planned this reading the skies Declared it with sadness our last kiss goodbye I'd like to say something strong That makes you think i've got it down Like you may say but makes me feel so wrong A large hall, colored tiles Soft as clay I’m waiting for a train A feverish dream I want to tell But the words lose their meaning I'd like to say something loud That proves to you that I feel proud Like you may say But I'm not going to do it that way

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Somewhere Only We Know By Landon Arace

Alicia died today. It didn’t come as a shock, it was only a matter of time in her old age. Her life was complete in the end, and that was all she needed to know when her time came. The life we had shared together before was plentiful, filled with great memories and good times. Today she lay on her hospital bed and slowly closed her eyes to fade into the afterlife. I watched it all unfold.

All that went through my mind as she slowly faded was all of the times we shared together. The first time we climbed a tree together when we were in the 8th grade. The first time we danced at Homecoming and, especially, our honeymoon.

Our honeymoon was fantastic. We went to a small countryside house that we rented for the weekend. There was a large oak tree in the field where we would have a picnic everyday around sunset, and when night fell we would share each other in bed. It was the most perfect time. As the years went on we never forgot that small countryside house. It was part of the things that kept us together for those many years that went by.

We always wanted to go back, but, in the summer of 2008, the small countryside house burned down and was never opened again for renters to come and enjoy its beauty. Never again would we return to that serene little countryside house with the large oak tree out in the field that made our relationship what it was.

As the years went on, the memories of the countryside house began to fade, but it was never out of mind. We kept a picture of the last day we spent there together. Every now and then I’d catch a glimpse of the picture, in our living room on the small coffee table, and I’d remember those times that felt like so long ago. And now, here is Alicia, on her deathbed, waiting for the darkness to consume her, but soon she would come to realize that it wasn’t darkness.

As for me? Well, I’ll be here, waiting. Waiting to accept her to the other side, waiting for my beloved to return to me so we may travel the clouds and the stars. It shouldn’t be much longer now.

Waiting, so we can return to somewhere only we know.

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Golden Giraffe By Kate Villinksi

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The Snowy Day’s Views By Olivia Hart

She walked out of her front door to the street to wait for the bus. She noticed that it had

snowed. She lived at the intersection of two roads. One was old and rarely used now, while the other had a constant flow of people and cars. But, the scenery around had filled her with the craving to take a picture. First she had to check to make sure that no one decided that they wanted to go down that quiet snowy road. Then she made her way to the middle to get the best angle she could. The picture came out perfect and it had captured everything. In the image, the snow actually looked white and crispy, instead of the road looking wet in some places and dry in others. The snow clung to the trees with such power that the gusts of wind blowing through had no effect on it. The road curved slightly with wires following it layered with snow, hidden from the view of just any old person looking down the road. She felt as though she had been pushed back in time by just walking through her door. The whole thing looked as if there was going to be a horse and carriage riding down that road at any minute. Horses at the farm next door neighing if nothing else helped to make the scene even more magnificent. Just then her brother called “Bus is coming” and she felt like she was back where she belonged waiting for the bus in front of her house. Leaving the world she just saw behind.

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Presents By Amelia Reis

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Man with Balloons By Amelia Reis

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Special Olympics By Emma Sorrentino

My sophomore year, something drew me to volunteer for the Special Olympics. Little did I know, that choice would change the course of my life forever. During that event, I experienced a truly pure level of excitement, love, and acceptance that I had never seen or felt before. These kids, no matter what their event or place, were all simply overjoyed to participate. I was exposed to a side of the students from my school that I hadn’t seen in the hallways. Matt, Saidi, Jake, and Owen were sincerely loving life, and I was loving watching them fill with happiness. Sadi won a gold medal in the 400 meter run while Owen won a bronze in the 50, but both achieved equally as much. Matt skipped onto the bus, medals proudly clanging together. He remained ecstatic the whole ride home, and Jake echoed his excitement, even if it was just in intermittent cheers. I had never left somewhere with such a full heart.

The next day I entered the lunchroom as I normally did, although I had a whole new perspective. I saw the same students I had cheered on and hugged the day before sitting at the end of the first table, alone. I instantly had a flashback to my elementary school years. I was mandated to sit at the ‘peanut-free table’ and though this kept me safe, being the only kid with allergies in my grade I would often find myself sitting alone. As a science-oriented kid, my observations about the world had already begun. I remember many times thinking, “Why am I different? So what if I have a peanut allergy, that doesn’t mean I should be separated from the world. Yeah this is safe, but it doesn't feel safe.”

As I came back into the lunchroom, many emotions overtook me. I felt the emptiness of sitting alone, the confusion of feeling different, and the anger that no one had realized there is no reason to not sit with these kids. I looked around and saw that the same people who hadn’t sat with me, also weren’t sitting with them. Without thinking twice, I said, “Hi Saidi, can I sit here today?” Her face lit up as she eagerly nodded. When I sat down, Matt looked up and the most pure, shy smile spread across his face. He didn’t need to say anything, as our eyes locked I understood his emotions perfectly well. I felt my heart swell as it had the day before.

Through sitting with them everyday since, I have gotten to know each kid to the point where they sometimes trust me more than they trust the adults. Jake thinks lion noises are hilarious and he holds your wrist to show his compassion. Owen’s favorite food is cheese doodles and he looks at you and nods to connect. Saidi loves gym and art class and she walks right beside you in the hallway to show that she cares. Matt loves John Cena and will always ask if you’re “in the green zone” to make sure you are happy. They rapidly became some of my best friends and lunch with them became the highlight of my day.

I realized that I had more in common with these students than not. In fact, scientifically, every human shares 99.5% of the same DNA. Thus, the microscopically small chemical difference between a person with special needs, a person with food allergies, and the rest of the world is almost negligible. I wonder why it is that the 0.5% is what drives peoples’ perception, and not the 99.5%. That small difference is not what defines a person. It is what allows them to see the world in a different light. Just as these kids so naturally do, I'm not going to let the small differences stop me from viewing the world with an open mind.

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Untitled By anonymous