The Spiral Staircase
24
Transcript of The Spiral Staircase
CastandCrewofSSA'sLiteraryMagazine
KajaCutlip
SPENCERGREENBERG
BridgetOnest
RachelSilvermanKatieSparvero
Ms.Castleman
CongratulationstoAvariGupta,ourcoverartist!GREATPHOTO!
SPIRAL
STAIRCASE
2016
PhotobyMakennaWolfanger
PhotobyReneeWilkins
PhotobyJayaPatel
TheChinaDollbyBridgetOnest
Thegirlwassixwhenhermotherboughtherthedoll
Thechinadollwithredlipsandpinkcheeks
Howthatlittlegirllovedthatdoll
Sheranhomefromschool
Everydaytoplaywiththedoll
Dressingthedollupinlittlebluegowns
Usingherownhairpiecestopullgoldenhairback
Stealinghermother’seyeliner
Drawingsmilingfacesandhearts
Onpinkcheeksandbluegowns
Howthatlittlegirlcriedwhenthatonefootbrokeoff
Shehonestlythoughtthatdollcouldfly
Littlegirlsgrowup
Makebelievegameslosetheirinterest
Dustgathersonuntouchedshelves
Moreandmorepiecesbreakoff
Thegirlwassixwhenhermotherboughtherthatdoll
Thechinadollwiththefadedlipsandsmudgedcheeks
Goldenhairwiththeclumpsofdrieddirt
Wornbluegownsstrewnacrosstheclosetfloor
Thegirlwaseighteenwhenshegraduatedfromhighschool
Onherwaytocollege
Lookingthroughthecloset
Sortingthroughdustyshelves
Handsfindafamiliarshape
Thechinadollwhowipedthetearsfromthatlittlegirl’seyes
Whoflewdownthestairswithunbelievablegrace
Laughedatthelittlegirl’slacklusterjokes
ThechinadollwhofellinlovewithBennie
Thatlittledogwholivedacrossthestreet
Forasecondthegirlpauses
Andlooksintothoseeyes
Theeyesthatwereonceabrilliantgreen
Butshesawonlygray
Andthatonce-littlegirl
Threwthatchinadollaway
PhotobyReneeWilkinsandEmmaLammert
SixWordStoryofMyLife
Cannevermakeupmymind.
KatieSparvero
PhotobyStephanieChen
PhotobySpencerGreenberg
PhotobyBrennaFouser
PhotobyCealyFryncko
PhaseTransitionsSonnetbyJasonVaskoandTylerWeinberger
Otimeandspace,nowlookuponyourfate,
thetruthofthiswillmakeyouquiteirate.
Thiswillaffecteverythingsmallandlarge,
forsoonall-knowingphysicsshalllosecharge!
Alack,everythingshallfinallyfall,
aforcethatcanpenetrateanywall.
Thethoughtofitcanmakeanymanquake,
thefabricofspacetimethisforceshallbreak!
Nothingintheuniversecanstopthis,
drowningeverythinginthevastabyss.
Unstoppablewaveofpuredestruction,
notathingcanstopitsunreduction!
Perhapsthiswillcreateanignition
ofcautionaboutthephasetransition!
AStrangeSortofPeacebyKatieSparvero
Iknowtheworldisending,Ifeelpiecesoftheskyfallonmyshoulders,
Itastestarsdroponmytongue,ButI'mnotworried,
I'mhappy.Itsoundsstrange,
EvenasIsayittomyself,Butit'strue,Becausein
One,Two,
Orhowevermanymillionyearsittakes,Peoplewillfindwhatusedtobehere,
Andthey'llknowthatpeoplehereDiedtogether.
PhotobyKajaCutlipPhotobyMaxWolfanger
MyPoemProcessbyGabbieBernier
1.Thinkofsomethingcreativetostartoffwith2.Thenseeifthatwordrhymeswithanyotherword3.Realizethatwhatyoucameupwithrhymeswithnothing4.Startfromthebeginningandtrytocomeupwithsomethingeasiertoworkwith5.Realizethatyouarenotmeanttowritepoemsandmomentarilygiveup6.Allofasuddengetaboostofconfidenceanddecidetotryagain7.Realizethatwhiletryingtocomeupwithmyownpersonalpoemprocessitmightbeartsyenoughtogetintothemagazine
PhaseTransitionsSonnetbyJasonVaskoandTylerWeinberger
Otimeandspace,nowlookuponyourfate,
thetruthofthiswillmakeyouquiteirate.
Thiswillaffecteverythingsmallandlarge,
forsoonall-knowingphysicsshalllosecharge!
Alack,everythingshallfinallyfall,
aforcethatcanpenetrateanywall.
Thethoughtofitcanmakeanymanquake,
thefabricofspacetimethisforceshallbreak!
Nothingintheuniversecanstopthis,
drowningeverythinginthevastabyss.
Unstoppablewaveofpuredestruction,
notathingcanstopitsunreduction!
Perhapsthiswillcreateanignition
ofcautionaboutthephasetransition!
AStrangeSortofPeacebyKatieSparvero
Iknowtheworldisending,Ifeelpiecesoftheskyfallonmyshoulders,
Itastestarsdroponmytongue,ButI'mnotworried,
I'mhappy.Itsoundsstrange,
EvenasIsayittomyself,Butit'strue,Becausein
One,Two,
Orhowevermanymillionyearsittakes,Peoplewillfindwhatusedtobehere,
Andthey'llknowthatpeoplehereDiedtogether.
PhotobyKajaCutlipPhotobyMaxWolfanger
MyPoemProcessbyGabbieBernier
1.Thinkofsomethingcreativetostartoffwith2.Thenseeifthatwordrhymeswithanyotherword3.Realizethatwhatyoucameupwithrhymeswithnothing4.Startfromthebeginningandtrytocomeupwithsomethingeasiertoworkwith5.Realizethatyouarenotmeanttowritepoemsandmomentarilygiveup6.Allofasuddengetaboostofconfidenceanddecidetotryagain7.Realizethatwhiletryingtocomeupwithmyownpersonalpoemprocessitmightbeartsyenoughtogetintothemagazine
EndlessRoombyAnonymous
ImaginearoomWithnoendorbeginningWithnothinginitsway
ItjustgoesStraight
Itdoesn'thaveunexpectedturnsOrtwists
NothingcanhurtitNothingcandamageit
Don'tyouwishyourlifewasthatroom?
DrawingbythesameAnonymous
DrawingbyInyaaAshok
PhotobyNoraNavid
PhotobyEmmaLammert PhotobyMaxWolfanger
PhotobyMs.Guering
PhotobyNoahStrauss
EndlessRoombyAnonymous
ImaginearoomWithnoendorbeginningWithnothinginitsway
ItjustgoesStraight
Itdoesn'thaveunexpectedturnsOrtwists
NothingcanhurtitNothingcandamageit
Don'tyouwishyourlifewasthatroom?
DrawingbythesameAnonymous
DrawingbyInyaaAshok
PhotobyNoraNavid
PhotobyEmmaLammert PhotobyMaxWolfanger
PhotobyMs.Guering
PhotobyNoahStrauss
EnteringtheRealmofthe“GoldenBeast”byGiriViswanathan
“HaveaNiceDay”and“Don’tforgetyourbackpack”werethefirstwordsthatfloodedmyears
asIopenedtheblue,woodenfrontdoorofmyhouse.Steppingout,downthesmallstepleading
tothefrontporch,mygrandmotherurgedmealong,somehowmanagingtoinhumanlycook,
clean,andhelpmegetreadyforthejubilousdayahead.“Shehadalwaysstoodbyasmy
closestcompanion,”Ithought,asIclenchedhersoft,leatheryhands;feelingwarmthasshe
clenchedmeclosertohersmooth,silkyshirt,brightwiththecolorsofathousandflowers,
bloomingandthrivingaroundherlovingheart.Withme,shewouldhearthefieryroarsoftoy
carsorfeelconfusionwashoverherwhensolvingthoseconfoundedjigsawpuzzles,orfora
change,wewouldbothfallvictimtotheunavoidabletrapthatsheadored:IndianMovies.
Whenovercomebytheyearnforthosethose,dramatic,vibrantIndianromanceswiththeoh-so
predictableplot,theoneswiththeangelicactorsboastingtheirglowingskinandperfectfigures
engaginginsomesortofintricate,exoticdance,nothingcoulddrawher,andbydefinition,me
awayfromthepulsingtelevisionscreen.Together,ourimaginationsranwild,transportedinto
universesthatproddedatthedepthsofthehumanmind’scapacity.
Lookingaway,Irapidlypivotedandgazedtowardsthedarkroadahead,mypolishedleather
shoesscrapingthefreezing,ruggedcementasIboundeddownthefrontsteps,racingtowards
thesidewalkasapredatorchaseshisprey.AsIflexedthemusclesborderingmyjuvenileeyes,I
squintedup,andthesunfloodedmyvision.Shieldingmyeyesfromthedazzlingrays,Icaught
aglimpseofEarth’sorganismsbaskinginitsgloriouspresence,gulpingdownthegoldenrays
asifatantalizingdelicacy.IntheSun’somnipotentpresence,thegrassemanatedabrilliant
greenlightoverthefrigidautumnmorning,complementingthecolorfulleavesthatswirledin
tremendoushurricanesofred,orange,yellow,andbrownasItrampledgloriouslyoverthe
damp,dewedsurface.Thefrigidpre-winterbreezenippedatmysoftskin,likeahordeofwild
insects,anddrenchedmy4yearoldbodyinafluidicbath.Goosebumpsroselikeflowerson
mybarearms,makingmyhairriselikeablackforest;however,forgingahead,myfeetscuffled
acrossthecompactcementinrobotic,rigidmotions.Asmymindwandered,itquickly
overflowed,filledwithworriesaboutthedayahead,mytransitiontokindergarten,andthe
ultimateriteofpassage:ridingtheyellowbeast.Ihadbeenentranced,seemingly,sinceIwas
born,butamereinfanteyeingthegoldenmonsterroaringdowntheroad,theonethattookall
thekidstothegreat“school”Ihadheardconversationof.Marvelous,majestic,roaringagreat
bellowatallwhodaredventurenear,Ihadanobsessionwithwhatappearedtobethegreatest
machinetobeforgedbyhumanhands.Emblazonedwiththesymbol“schoolbus,”itproudly
displayeditsmightanddutytothosewhohadthefortuneofglimpsingthecreature,asifadeity
haddescendedinutmostrevelrytotheterrestrialbodyIstoodupon.Filledwithdreams,
yearningtoreelintheuttermajestyofthebeast,Ifinallycaughtaglimpseofthemonstrosity,
thequadrupedrumblingtowardsmepowerfully.Supportedbyrubberlegsofagiant,the
creaturemadethegroundandallnearthebustrembleinutterfear,subjugatedbyitsmere
presence.Thegoldenmonstercrawledtowardsme,
stalkingmydriveway;Istoodawestruck,amereinsectcomparedtothesheerenormitythatI
beheld,theonetakinguptheentiretyofmyvision.Eyeingmegreedily,thebusgruntedand
rumbledasitscircularrubberlimbsglidedgracefullyoverthetarredroad,toweringandcasting
aveilofdarknessontheworld.Screechingtoastop,flaringflashingcolorsandarms,theglass
doorsclawedopen,andIsteppedintothebellyofthebeast.Asmyfeetthuddedacrossthe
metallicbase,theonewhoheldthecreature’sreigns,armoredwithafleecy,warmredsweater
andamaneofsnowywhitehair,beckonedmeforwardintohervastdomain.Mylegsechoedas
theybouncedoffthehardstairs,andthebusshookwithitssheerandepicroar;yet,thesmall,
red-facedwomanthatIbeheldremainedsteadfast,unmoving,patient,andunintimidatedbythe
monstrositythatshedrove.Herlustrous,pearlysmileandwrinkledfacehidempathyand
acknowledgementinitscrevices,contrastingsharplywiththedark,solemnpanellingofher
vehicle.Bearingarepertoireofteethinanenormoussmile,shedrewmenearwithdark,sea-
blueeyes,asifpaintedwithanarrayofcolorsappliedboisterouslybyachild,withstreaksof
white,andaquamarineprotrudingfromablack,focusedpupil.Cautiously,asifenteringthelair
ofapredator,Ienteredtheoceanoftough,brown,leatherseatsthatwasknownasher
exclusivedomain.Wadingthroughtheinfinitenumbersofchildren,quietandsubduedby
Dawn’ssombereffect,Iclaimedaseattowardstherearofthecreatureasmyown,feelingthe
stiff,durableleather,squirmandadjustundermyweight,ameagerattempttoprovide
cushioningforthepeopleofthebus.
Astheleavesbegantocyclonearound,asifmissilestowardstheclearglasswindowsofthe
monster,myeyesopenedwide,surveyingtheresilient,redbrickhousethatIcalledhomefor
thepastyears.Filledwiththeshrieksofcryingbabies,overjoyedwaves,andflailingarms,of
proud,jovialparentsandelders,itstoodasameretestamentandsymbolofmypastlife.Ihad
bravedthebeast,andIhadtameditsfieryspirit,agruelingtrialthatwasbutaofprocess
steppingamongstthehordesofjuvenilefeet.Theprocessproclaimedmeworthyofridingsuch
acreature,andsuchaHerculeantaskhadreadiedmefortheoncomingdaysofgrowthand
development.Allmychildhooddreamsandobsessionshadbeenamerefantasy,vanquishedby
courageandtheadrenalinethatcoursedthroughmybloodstreamwouldnotallowanythingto
standinmyway.Iwasnowmasterofthegoldenbeast,anditunderstoodmydominanceover
it,coweringunderneathmeinagruntoffeebleness.Lookingforward,attheendlessriverof
autumnleavesandthestreamoftreesandhousesspeedingpastmeinablindingdisplayof
color,Ifacedtheroadrapidlyadvancingtowardsme.Peeringintothecominginundationof
cars,Igazedforwardandsawmyfutureunfold,asthegoldenbeast,rumblingandgruntinga
fierce,magicalbellow,continuedforward,forgingrelentlesslytowardtheeverglowinghorizon,
avineofgleaminglightcrawlingawayintothemorningsky.
PhotobyAustinRecchi
EnteringtheRealmofthe“GoldenBeast”byGiriViswanathan
“HaveaNiceDay”and“Don’tforgetyourbackpack”werethefirstwordsthatfloodedmyears
asIopenedtheblue,woodenfrontdoorofmyhouse.Steppingout,downthesmallstepleading
tothefrontporch,mygrandmotherurgedmealong,somehowmanagingtoinhumanlycook,
clean,andhelpmegetreadyforthejubilousdayahead.“Shehadalwaysstoodbyasmy
closestcompanion,”Ithought,asIclenchedhersoft,leatheryhands;feelingwarmthasshe
clenchedmeclosertohersmooth,silkyshirt,brightwiththecolorsofathousandflowers,
bloomingandthrivingaroundherlovingheart.Withme,shewouldhearthefieryroarsoftoy
carsorfeelconfusionwashoverherwhensolvingthoseconfoundedjigsawpuzzles,orfora
change,wewouldbothfallvictimtotheunavoidabletrapthatsheadored:IndianMovies.
Whenovercomebytheyearnforthosethose,dramatic,vibrantIndianromanceswiththeoh-so
predictableplot,theoneswiththeangelicactorsboastingtheirglowingskinandperfectfigures
engaginginsomesortofintricate,exoticdance,nothingcoulddrawher,andbydefinition,me
awayfromthepulsingtelevisionscreen.Together,ourimaginationsranwild,transportedinto
universesthatproddedatthedepthsofthehumanmind’scapacity.
Lookingaway,Irapidlypivotedandgazedtowardsthedarkroadahead,mypolishedleather
shoesscrapingthefreezing,ruggedcementasIboundeddownthefrontsteps,racingtowards
thesidewalkasapredatorchaseshisprey.AsIflexedthemusclesborderingmyjuvenileeyes,I
squintedup,andthesunfloodedmyvision.Shieldingmyeyesfromthedazzlingrays,Icaught
aglimpseofEarth’sorganismsbaskinginitsgloriouspresence,gulpingdownthegoldenrays
asifatantalizingdelicacy.IntheSun’somnipotentpresence,thegrassemanatedabrilliant
greenlightoverthefrigidautumnmorning,complementingthecolorfulleavesthatswirledin
tremendoushurricanesofred,orange,yellow,andbrownasItrampledgloriouslyoverthe
damp,dewedsurface.Thefrigidpre-winterbreezenippedatmysoftskin,likeahordeofwild
insects,anddrenchedmy4yearoldbodyinafluidicbath.Goosebumpsroselikeflowerson
mybarearms,makingmyhairriselikeablackforest;however,forgingahead,myfeetscuffled
acrossthecompactcementinrobotic,rigidmotions.Asmymindwandered,itquickly
overflowed,filledwithworriesaboutthedayahead,mytransitiontokindergarten,andthe
ultimateriteofpassage:ridingtheyellowbeast.Ihadbeenentranced,seemingly,sinceIwas
born,butamereinfanteyeingthegoldenmonsterroaringdowntheroad,theonethattookall
thekidstothegreat“school”Ihadheardconversationof.Marvelous,majestic,roaringagreat
bellowatallwhodaredventurenear,Ihadanobsessionwithwhatappearedtobethegreatest
machinetobeforgedbyhumanhands.Emblazonedwiththesymbol“schoolbus,”itproudly
displayeditsmightanddutytothosewhohadthefortuneofglimpsingthecreature,asifadeity
haddescendedinutmostrevelrytotheterrestrialbodyIstoodupon.Filledwithdreams,
yearningtoreelintheuttermajestyofthebeast,Ifinallycaughtaglimpseofthemonstrosity,
thequadrupedrumblingtowardsmepowerfully.Supportedbyrubberlegsofagiant,the
creaturemadethegroundandallnearthebustrembleinutterfear,subjugatedbyitsmere
presence.Thegoldenmonstercrawledtowardsme,
stalkingmydriveway;Istoodawestruck,amereinsectcomparedtothesheerenormitythatI
beheld,theonetakinguptheentiretyofmyvision.Eyeingmegreedily,thebusgruntedand
rumbledasitscircularrubberlimbsglidedgracefullyoverthetarredroad,toweringandcasting
aveilofdarknessontheworld.Screechingtoastop,flaringflashingcolorsandarms,theglass
doorsclawedopen,andIsteppedintothebellyofthebeast.Asmyfeetthuddedacrossthe
metallicbase,theonewhoheldthecreature’sreigns,armoredwithafleecy,warmredsweater
andamaneofsnowywhitehair,beckonedmeforwardintohervastdomain.Mylegsechoedas
theybouncedoffthehardstairs,andthebusshookwithitssheerandepicroar;yet,thesmall,
red-facedwomanthatIbeheldremainedsteadfast,unmoving,patient,andunintimidatedbythe
monstrositythatshedrove.Herlustrous,pearlysmileandwrinkledfacehidempathyand
acknowledgementinitscrevices,contrastingsharplywiththedark,solemnpanellingofher
vehicle.Bearingarepertoireofteethinanenormoussmile,shedrewmenearwithdark,sea-
blueeyes,asifpaintedwithanarrayofcolorsappliedboisterouslybyachild,withstreaksof
white,andaquamarineprotrudingfromablack,focusedpupil.Cautiously,asifenteringthelair
ofapredator,Ienteredtheoceanoftough,brown,leatherseatsthatwasknownasher
exclusivedomain.Wadingthroughtheinfinitenumbersofchildren,quietandsubduedby
Dawn’ssombereffect,Iclaimedaseattowardstherearofthecreatureasmyown,feelingthe
stiff,durableleather,squirmandadjustundermyweight,ameagerattempttoprovide
cushioningforthepeopleofthebus.
Astheleavesbegantocyclonearound,asifmissilestowardstheclearglasswindowsofthe
monster,myeyesopenedwide,surveyingtheresilient,redbrickhousethatIcalledhomefor
thepastyears.Filledwiththeshrieksofcryingbabies,overjoyedwaves,andflailingarms,of
proud,jovialparentsandelders,itstoodasameretestamentandsymbolofmypastlife.Ihad
bravedthebeast,andIhadtameditsfieryspirit,agruelingtrialthatwasbutaofprocess
steppingamongstthehordesofjuvenilefeet.Theprocessproclaimedmeworthyofridingsuch
acreature,andsuchaHerculeantaskhadreadiedmefortheoncomingdaysofgrowthand
development.Allmychildhooddreamsandobsessionshadbeenamerefantasy,vanquishedby
courageandtheadrenalinethatcoursedthroughmybloodstreamwouldnotallowanythingto
standinmyway.Iwasnowmasterofthegoldenbeast,anditunderstoodmydominanceover
it,coweringunderneathmeinagruntoffeebleness.Lookingforward,attheendlessriverof
autumnleavesandthestreamoftreesandhousesspeedingpastmeinablindingdisplayof
color,Ifacedtheroadrapidlyadvancingtowardsme.Peeringintothecominginundationof
cars,Igazedforwardandsawmyfutureunfold,asthegoldenbeast,rumblingandgruntinga
fierce,magicalbellow,continuedforward,forgingrelentlesslytowardtheeverglowinghorizon,
avineofgleaminglightcrawlingawayintothemorningsky.
PhotobyAustinRecchi
PhotobyBrennaFouser
HomeworkbyKatieSparvero
Ididnotwantto
Writethispoem,butMs.
Castlemanmademe.
HappybyAveryBenko
Sharingsmilesallday
ForeverydayinMay
Keepingfrownsaway
HaikubyBillyDunleavy
Thissentencehasfive,
Thenextsentencehasseven.
Thisismyhaiku.
PhotobyBrennaFouser
PhotobyAvariGupta
AwakeandUnafraidbyBridgetOnest
HereIam
Youwantedmetobehere
Didn'tyou?
Idon'tmind
Youalwayshaveunderestimatedme
Iwonderwhy
Isitbecause
Idonotdeclaremyname
Liketheotherbirds?
Withpuffedchests
Theyscreamwhotheyclaimtobe
Butaretheyawake
Theoneswhoseeyes
Areclosedwhiletheirmouthsstayopen
Asiftheyarewaitingtobefed?
Howcantheysay
Theyknowwhotheyare
Iftheydon'tlook
Aroundthematthe
Clouds,thesun,themoon,thestars
Thisonce-beautifulworld?
Youlookmeintheeye
SayingIamafraid
Ofwhat?
Iask
Thisworld,thisonce-beautifulplace
Orperhapsthose
Whopuffedtheirchests
Declaringwhotheywerewitheyesclosed
Thoseoneswhomadeitthisway?
YouaskwhoIam
HowcanIsaythesethings
Asiftheyarethetruth?
Iaskwhoyouare
Whatnamedoyouscream
Withyourpuffedchest?
Doyoueveropenyoureyes
Toseethisonce-beautifulworldaroundyou
Inthemidnightglowofthemoon?
Haveyouever
Satalonetowatchthesunrise
Asitpaintsthehills?
Didyoustraintohear
Thetreeswhispertheirsecrets
Asyoupassedthemby?
And,furthermore,letmeaskyou
Ifyouarenotawake,howcanyousay
Thatyouarealive?
PhotobyGiriViswanathan
HumansCan’tFly
byKatieSparveroandBridgetOnest
Thereoncewasadrunkman
WhothoughthewasSuperman
Hetriedtoflyoutthewindow,man
Andnowthereisnodrunkman
WhothinksheisSuperman
Becauseheisadeadman
PopSonnetbyElizabethCurley
Inspiredby“BreakingFree”byHighSchoolMusical:
Weartascending,weartflyingup
Thitherisnotaheavenlybody
Thitherwecannevereverpickup
Ifweartattempting,weartgotfree
Thyknowstheplanetcanalwaysseeus
Inawaythatdoesnotshowwhoweare
Formingagapthatwecannotdiscuss
Untilthespacebetweenourheartsisfar
Alasthyloyaltyhasstrengthenedme
Powerlikewallsthathathroomtobelieve
Anonweart,fromhither,growingfree
Weartascending,throughtheskyweweave
Thouhathnotaasteroid,thoucan’tmark
Ifthoutries,alas,thoucanfreethyspark
FallingbyEmilyDavidheiser
Theground
Itstops
Thenothing
Itbegins
Thelights
Wizzby
Thesounds
Don'texist
Myheart
Beatstops
Whenthe
Groundbegins
Again
TheUnknownbyWesleyHopeman
Feariswhatweprojectontotheunknown.
Wepushwhatwethinkisfrighteninginto
whatweallknowastheunknown
Thenallwedoisthinkaboutit.
Wethinkofworstcasescenarios,
Whilesometimesallthereisisaplace
thatwillmakeyounothingbuthappy
Butthisfearisnever-ending
Andthefearisalmostunstoppable.
Butthereisawaytonotbeafraid.
Theonlywaytoendthefear
IstoexploreTheunknown
Andevenifthereis
somethinghorriblethere,
Atleastyouknow,
Andarenotafraid
Oftheunknown
Anymore
JosébyRachelSilverman
Allthekidsrunatnight,aroundthemilkcarton.Aftertheyhaverunnothinghappens.Oneday,Joséwoketryingtorememberwhathappenedthepreviousnight.Hesatupandlookeddownathisgreentoes.Hescreamedinshockbutnosoundcameout.Herantohismom,screamingforher.Whenhehuggedher,shestillwasscreamingforhim.Hecriedbutnotearscameout.Hemopedbacktohisroomandsawhimselflyingmotionlessinhisblood-splatteredbedalongwithagreenheadlessmanwithnohands.Joséturnedaroundtohismirrortoseehisheadmeltingaway.Josélookedbehindhiminthemirrorbuthedidn'tseetheheadlessman.Hefloppedonthebedandfeltsomeonetappingonhisshoulder.Helookedupanditwasthegreenheadlessman.Hespokesoftlyinalowvoice“What'swrongJosé?...You'resafewithme,Èsoj.”Joséwhisperedinfear,“Whathaveyoudonetome?Letmegoback.”Èsojsmiledevilly.“You'llbebackwhenI'mdonewithyou.”AtearrandownJosè’sfacebutitwasdry.Èsojsaid“Younolongercandoanythingtoaffectthisworld.”Joséaskedwhathappenedtohishumanbody,butÈsojdidn'tsayanything.Josédidn'tlivetotelltherest.
WinterDaybyWhitneyMcVeagh
It'ssuchanicewinterdayLet'sgooutandplayThebrightsnowissowhiteWeshouldhaveasnowballfightWhenitgetstoocoldAndthesunisnotboldWeshouldgoindoorsAndmakesomes’moresBythefireplaceWitharosyface
AMillionMilesAwaybyElenaHoffmanandNicole
Caputo
InspiredbyAdele,"Hello"
ThouartlikeadreaminCalifornia,
Myguilthathcomebackafteralltheseyears,
ThouartmileshenceinBoraBora,
Markmywords,hearme,toclearawaytears,
Thetelephonequietlysits,waiting,
Ifeelstucklikeglue,whilethousoarshencefree
I'minapooloflove,suffocating,
Theoldfeelingofusiskillingme,
Thepastisgone,onlythepresentremainsnow,
Thematchislit,andthefireisdying,
Wemustsalvagetheflame,thatisonthou,
Don'tkilltheflame,Iamdonewithtrying,
Ipritheethatthouwillmaketherightchoice,
Throughoutallthis,Ihopetohearyourvoice
PhotobyReneeWilkins
PhotobyAnnabelK uhn
PhotobyKatieSparvero
PhotobyJackBarton
PhotobyCharlieK atarincic
JosébyRachelSilverman
Allthekidsrunatnight,aroundthemilkcarton.Aftertheyhaverunnothinghappens.Oneday,Joséwoketryingtorememberwhathappenedthepreviousnight.Hesatupandlookeddownathisgreentoes.Hescreamedinshockbutnosoundcameout.Herantohismom,screamingforher.Whenhehuggedher,shestillwasscreamingforhim.Hecriedbutnotearscameout.Hemopedbacktohisroomandsawhimselflyingmotionlessinhisblood-splatteredbedalongwithagreenheadlessmanwithnohands.Joséturnedaroundtohismirrortoseehisheadmeltingaway.Josélookedbehindhiminthemirrorbuthedidn'tseetheheadlessman.Hefloppedonthebedandfeltsomeonetappingonhisshoulder.Helookedupanditwasthegreenheadlessman.Hespokesoftlyinalowvoice“What'swrongJosé?...You'resafewithme,Èsoj.”Joséwhisperedinfear,“Whathaveyoudonetome?Letmegoback.”Èsojsmiledevilly.“You'llbebackwhenI'mdonewithyou.”AtearrandownJosè’sfacebutitwasdry.Èsojsaid“Younolongercandoanythingtoaffectthisworld.”Joséaskedwhathappenedtohishumanbody,butÈsojdidn'tsayanything.Josédidn'tlivetotelltherest.
WinterDaybyWhitneyMcVeagh
It'ssuchanicewinterdayLet'sgooutandplayThebrightsnowissowhiteWeshouldhaveasnowballfightWhenitgetstoocoldAndthesunisnotboldWeshouldgoindoorsAndmakesomes’moresBythefireplaceWitharosyface
AMillionMilesAwaybyElenaHoffmanandNicole
Caputo
InspiredbyAdele,"Hello"
ThouartlikeadreaminCalifornia,
Myguilthathcomebackafteralltheseyears,
ThouartmileshenceinBoraBora,
Markmywords,hearme,toclearawaytears,
Thetelephonequietlysits,waiting,
Ifeelstucklikeglue,whilethousoarshencefree
I'minapooloflove,suffocating,
Theoldfeelingofusiskillingme,
Thepastisgone,onlythepresentremainsnow,
Thematchislit,andthefireisdying,
Wemustsalvagetheflame,thatisonthou,
Don'tkilltheflame,Iamdonewithtrying,
Ipritheethatthouwillmaketherightchoice,
Throughoutallthis,Ihopetohearyourvoice
PhotobyReneeWilkins
PhotobyAnnabelK uhn
PhotobyKatieSparvero
PhotobyJackBarton
PhotobyCharlieK atarincic
FallOutPoembyBridgetOnestHewasacityboyWorkingforhisloveAsawaiterinacocktailbarHesawthestonesetinhereyesThetaxmanhastakenallhisdoughPeopletryandputhimdownHehassavedhisprayersAlthoughhewasn’tthereshesaidhewasherfriendTheremustbesomewayoutHowthatmusicusedtomakehimsmileThedaybefore,allhistroublesseemedsofarawayShewasborninacrossfirehurricaneTheydon’tneednothoughtcontrolInthedaysofhisyouthhewastoldwhatitmeanstobeamanTheyspokeofwasandwhenTheyenjoytoloseandtopretend
WhatLiesBeneathMissDelilah’sHalfwayHouseforWaywardOrphansbyKatieSparvero
MissDelilah’sHalfwayHouseforWaywardOrphanswasnobetterthananyof theotherorphanages
intown,withitscracked,mossystone,creakingwoodendoors,andsmudgedglasswindowslikeleeringeyes
inthenight.Itdidnotseemtobethetypeof placewhereachildcouldbehappy,andyet,everyoneinthe
housewashappy.If youweretogoinside,itwouldbelikesteppingintothepast,forwhileotherchildren
couldbefoundwatchingtechnicolormoviesfilledwithaliensandguns,whilelisteningtocassettetapesor
compactdisksaboutloveanddisco,theorphanscouldbefoundreadingfrommustyoldbooksaboutthewar
betweenEnglandandFrance,orlisteningtorecordsonthegramophone.
Justlikethehouseitself wasablastfromthepast,noonecouldquiterememberwhenthehouse,orits
owner,MissDelilahJ.Evans,hadfirstcometotown.Infact,if youweretogotothebasementof thepublic
library,wherethetownrecordsareheld,youwouldfindacertificate,statingthatMissDelilahJosephina
EvansnéeO’Roarkwasfullycapableof takingcareof nomorethan50childreninherorphanage/fostercare/
halfwayhouseatonetime.If youweretogoaleveldeeperintothepubliclibrary,wherethebirthcertificates
wereheld,youwouldfindanemptyspacewhereMissDelilah’sbirthcertificateshouldhavebeen.If you
weretogotothenextlevel,wherethemarriagecertificateswereheld,youwouldindeedfindonewedding
MissDelilahJosephinaO’RoarkandMr.JamesFeinsteinEvans,yetadatewouldsurprisinglybeabsent.A
birthcertificateforMr.Evanscouldbefoundinthefilingcabinetsontheproperfloor,andadeathcertificate
aswell.
PopSonnetbyBridgetHughesInspiredbyRickAstley,“NeverGonnaGiveYouUp”
FortheeIhavenewfoundemotions.Althoughwebothhavelovedothersbefore,Ipritheetheetoharkmydevotions:Whenlikenedtopastloves,mineismuchmore.NevershouldIleavetheewhollyalone,
NorwouldItakeactionstomaketheeweepAndI’dsoonerdiethanhaveseedsofdiscordsownBetweenus;yes,myloverunsjustthatdeep.Don’ttellmethouarttooblindtoseeloveAsitknocksvigorouslyonthydoorForthyhearthathbeenyearningtobefreeof
Itsachingandjustloveagainoncemore.—Iprithee,comewithme,I’lltreattheewell;Nev’rwouldIleavethee,I’munderthyspell.
SunsetbyEmilyDavidheiser
ThesunLingersOnTheskylineThelightIsfadingEverSoslowlyTheskyIsaDarkeningrainbowThemoonGlowssoftInaHardlyVisibleStateBecauseThesunmustgoTobed
ASadnessTurnsbyHaileyFlaherty
Sadnessisacrack,
acrevicethatkeepsongrowing,
abreakinyourheartthatwillalwayskeepyou
moaning
sadnessislikenoother,
althoughitwillbother,
sadnesscanbeburnedandturnedintoanother
sadnessturnstojoy,
asmileonyourface
nolongeristhatcrack
stillachingtocomeback
sadnessisdemolished
andyourheartisfreshlypolished
sadnessisnowgoneand
yourlifecanfurthergoon
PaintingbySanjnaNarayan
PhotobyReneeW
ilkins
PoemandColoringbySpencerGreenberg
PhotobyGiriViswanathan
FallOutPoembyBridgetOnestHewasacityboyWorkingforhisloveAsawaiterinacocktailbarHesawthestonesetinhereyesThetaxmanhastakenallhisdoughPeopletryandputhimdownHehassavedhisprayersAlthoughhewasn’tthereshesaidhewasherfriendTheremustbesomewayoutHowthatmusicusedtomakehimsmileThedaybefore,allhistroublesseemedsofarawayShewasborninacrossfirehurricaneTheydon’tneednothoughtcontrolInthedaysofhisyouthhewastoldwhatitmeanstobeamanTheyspokeofwasandwhenTheyenjoytoloseandtopretend
WhatLiesBeneathMissDelilah’sHalfwayHouseforWaywardOrphansbyKatieSparvero
MissDelilah’sHalfwayHouseforWaywardOrphanswasnobetterthananyof theotherorphanages
intown,withitscracked,mossystone,creakingwoodendoors,andsmudgedglasswindowslikeleeringeyes
inthenight.Itdidnotseemtobethetypeof placewhereachildcouldbehappy,andyet,everyoneinthe
housewashappy.If youweretogoinside,itwouldbelikesteppingintothepast,forwhileotherchildren
couldbefoundwatchingtechnicolormoviesfilledwithaliensandguns,whilelisteningtocassettetapesor
compactdisksaboutloveanddisco,theorphanscouldbefoundreadingfrommustyoldbooksaboutthewar
betweenEnglandandFrance,orlisteningtorecordsonthegramophone.
Justlikethehouseitself wasablastfromthepast,noonecouldquiterememberwhenthehouse,orits
owner,MissDelilahJ.Evans,hadfirstcometotown.Infact,if youweretogotothebasementof thepublic
library,wherethetownrecordsareheld,youwouldfindacertificate,statingthatMissDelilahJosephina
EvansnéeO’Roarkwasfullycapableof takingcareof nomorethan50childreninherorphanage/fostercare/
halfwayhouseatonetime.If youweretogoaleveldeeperintothepubliclibrary,wherethebirthcertificates
wereheld,youwouldfindanemptyspacewhereMissDelilah’sbirthcertificateshouldhavebeen.If you
weretogotothenextlevel,wherethemarriagecertificateswereheld,youwouldindeedfindonewedding
MissDelilahJosephinaO’RoarkandMr.JamesFeinsteinEvans,yetadatewouldsurprisinglybeabsent.A
birthcertificateforMr.Evanscouldbefoundinthefilingcabinetsontheproperfloor,andadeathcertificate
aswell.
PopSonnetbyBridgetHughesInspiredbyRickAstley,“NeverGonnaGiveYouUp”
FortheeIhavenewfoundemotions.Althoughwebothhavelovedothersbefore,Ipritheetheetoharkmydevotions:Whenlikenedtopastloves,mineismuchmore.NevershouldIleavetheewhollyalone,
NorwouldItakeactionstomaketheeweepAndI’dsoonerdiethanhaveseedsofdiscordsownBetweenus;yes,myloverunsjustthatdeep.Don’ttellmethouarttooblindtoseeloveAsitknocksvigorouslyonthydoorForthyhearthathbeenyearningtobefreeof
Itsachingandjustloveagainoncemore.—Iprithee,comewithme,I’lltreattheewell;Nev’rwouldIleavethee,I’munderthyspell.
SunsetbyEmilyDavidheiser
ThesunLingersOnTheskylineThelightIsfadingEverSoslowlyTheskyIsaDarkeningrainbowThemoonGlowssoftInaHardlyVisibleStateBecauseThesunmustgoTobed
ASadnessTurnsbyHaileyFlaherty
Sadnessisacrack,
acrevicethatkeepsongrowing,
abreakinyourheartthatwillalwayskeepyou
moaning
sadnessislikenoother,
althoughitwillbother,
sadnesscanbeburnedandturnedintoanother
sadnessturnstojoy,
asmileonyourface
nolongeristhatcrack
stillachingtocomeback
sadnessisdemolished
andyourheartisfreshlypolished
sadnessisnowgoneand
yourlifecanfurthergoon
PaintingbySanjnaNarayan
PhotobyReneeW
ilkins
PoemandColoringbySpencerGreenberg
PhotobyGiriViswanathan
WhentheLightTouchedMyGunbyMaxMinard
ThereIwas:asmall,chubbyyounglinginmydarkblackcowboyhat.Ihadtwosmallgunsplacedonmybeltwithsixextra
loopsaroundthehips.Thetipsofthepistolswerecoveredwithbrightwhiteducttapetohidethelargeorangeendofthe
barrels.Withthesmallhandheldcameraturnedon,Igloweredatmyopponent.
Hestood,severalfeettallerthanme,staringmedownwithhisonesolitaryeye.Theeyeshinedwithalightbluehue,ready
andyearningforafight.Hiseyepatchlaidamongsthisrough,scratchyeyebrowwithalightgraystreakjuttingacrossthe
smallseaofhair.Hishairwashiddenpartiallyunderthedarkblackbowlerhatwiththeroundedtop,toosmallforhishead.
Hisdarkgreenshirtcontrastedwithhissilverandemeraldcoloredplasticringwiththesmalllabel“MadeinChina”hidden
onitsunderbelly.Thecuffswerescrunchedup,outofthewayofhisgunhand.Myhandstwitchedfiercely,mirroringthe
handsofmyopponent.Themanthreatenedtoreachforhisgunjustbelowhishands,hiddeninthedarkshadowofhislarge
fingers.
Iwasnotmyselfanymore.IwasClyde,themysteriouscattlerustler,theunforgivingkillerofBillyShackleford.Iremember
seeinghimwalkonce,trippingandfallingonnothingbutthinair,smilingandlaughinginhisfeeblemindedway.I
rememberhisfaceslowlyfall,turningpaleasbloodslowlydrainedoutofhisplaidcollaredshirt.Asimilarfatewouldmeet
mycurrentenemy,MilfordGurden.
MyhanddroppedfasterthanthecattleIchased,Ifeltthecoldmetalrubacrossmypudgy,smallfingers.Thepistolquickly
roseoutofthedarkdepthsofmyholster.Asitrose,thesunshoneoffofit,bouncingdirectlytothesmallglasslensofthe
camera.Ipointedthepistolstraightattheman,matchingthewhiteducttapeupwiththesmallgreenbuttonsatthecenter
ofhischest.IknewthatIcouldnotshootmyfather,notinthefilm,notinreallife.Mygunwouldsoonmalfunction,Iwould
slapthesideinanattempttodislodgethesmallmechanism,butashotwouldringout,andClydewouldbelyingdeadonthe
ground.
Thenextfewsecondswhizzedby,justastheywereplanned.Clydewasofficiallydead,abulletstuckinhisgut.Hehadfeltno
pain,hisdeathinstantaneous.Itdidnothurtme,butIclaspedathinsorrowformydeadcomrade.Onceagainayoungboy
inacowboysuit,Ijumpedupandasked,“DidIdoitright?”
Myfatheranswered,“Youweregreat,son.”
Recently,Isawanold,darkgreenshirthanginginmycloset.Islowlyinspectedtheshirt,itslargeandwrinkledcuffs,its
manygreenbuttons.Someofthebuttonsweremissing,lostinthevortexoftime.Therewasasmalltearintherightsleeve:
myfather’sgunhand.Itookthegreenshirtoffitshangerandtriediton.Thebuttonslinedupperfectly,thecuffsunrolledat
theperfectlength.Iclosedmyeyesandlookedback,seeingasmall,chubbyyounglinginadarkblackcowboyhat.
“Love”istheThingBloomingby
ThompsonLau
Theseedbeginsinyourchest
Andgrowswitheveryaction
Andneverstopsgrowingdayor
night-
Andwhenitisfullydeveloped
Attheheightofspring
Itiswonderful
Agreatmomenttoexperience
“Love”isthethingblooming
Toshowthewholeworld
Andtoexpressitstruebeauty
BerrybyChazTroutman
Larrylovesberries
LarryisfriendswithJerry
JerrygetsmarriedtoMary
Mary’sbrotherisHarry
Harrylikescherries
IknowawomannamedSherrie
ShegotmarriedtoamannamedBerrie
Berrielookslikeacherry
SherrieisgoodfriendswithJerrybecausehelikesberries
LarrydecidedonedaythatberrieswereHarry
Larrystoppedeatingberries
ButSherrieconvincedLarrythatberriesweren'tHarry
JerryhasapetrhinocerosnamedCherry
Cherrygetsfedgallonsofberries
OnedayCherryateLarry
CherrysaidthatLarrytasteslikeberries
WhenLarrydiedhereincarnatedintoaberry
Larry’sneighborSherriesawCherryeatLarrysoJerrystoppedfeedingberriestoCherry
CherrygetsmadatJerry
CherrydecidestoeatJerry
Jerryalsoreincarnatedintoaberry
Cherrysoonranawayandatelotsofberries
ButafterawhileCherryranoutofberriestoeat
CherrysoonranbacktoSherrieandlivedhappilyeverafter
PhotobySpencerGreenberg
PhotobyAustinRecchi
WhentheLightTouchedMyGunbyMaxMinard
ThereIwas:asmall,chubbyyounglinginmydarkblackcowboyhat.Ihadtwosmallgunsplacedonmybeltwithsixextra
loopsaroundthehips.Thetipsofthepistolswerecoveredwithbrightwhiteducttapetohidethelargeorangeendofthe
barrels.Withthesmallhandheldcameraturnedon,Igloweredatmyopponent.
Hestood,severalfeettallerthanme,staringmedownwithhisonesolitaryeye.Theeyeshinedwithalightbluehue,ready
andyearningforafight.Hiseyepatchlaidamongsthisrough,scratchyeyebrowwithalightgraystreakjuttingacrossthe
smallseaofhair.Hishairwashiddenpartiallyunderthedarkblackbowlerhatwiththeroundedtop,toosmallforhishead.
Hisdarkgreenshirtcontrastedwithhissilverandemeraldcoloredplasticringwiththesmalllabel“MadeinChina”hidden
onitsunderbelly.Thecuffswerescrunchedup,outofthewayofhisgunhand.Myhandstwitchedfiercely,mirroringthe
handsofmyopponent.Themanthreatenedtoreachforhisgunjustbelowhishands,hiddeninthedarkshadowofhislarge
fingers.
Iwasnotmyselfanymore.IwasClyde,themysteriouscattlerustler,theunforgivingkillerofBillyShackleford.Iremember
seeinghimwalkonce,trippingandfallingonnothingbutthinair,smilingandlaughinginhisfeeblemindedway.I
rememberhisfaceslowlyfall,turningpaleasbloodslowlydrainedoutofhisplaidcollaredshirt.Asimilarfatewouldmeet
mycurrentenemy,MilfordGurden.
MyhanddroppedfasterthanthecattleIchased,Ifeltthecoldmetalrubacrossmypudgy,smallfingers.Thepistolquickly
roseoutofthedarkdepthsofmyholster.Asitrose,thesunshoneoffofit,bouncingdirectlytothesmallglasslensofthe
camera.Ipointedthepistolstraightattheman,matchingthewhiteducttapeupwiththesmallgreenbuttonsatthecenter
ofhischest.IknewthatIcouldnotshootmyfather,notinthefilm,notinreallife.Mygunwouldsoonmalfunction,Iwould
slapthesideinanattempttodislodgethesmallmechanism,butashotwouldringout,andClydewouldbelyingdeadonthe
ground.
Thenextfewsecondswhizzedby,justastheywereplanned.Clydewasofficiallydead,abulletstuckinhisgut.Hehadfeltno
pain,hisdeathinstantaneous.Itdidnothurtme,butIclaspedathinsorrowformydeadcomrade.Onceagainayoungboy
inacowboysuit,Ijumpedupandasked,“DidIdoitright?”
Myfatheranswered,“Youweregreat,son.”
Recently,Isawanold,darkgreenshirthanginginmycloset.Islowlyinspectedtheshirt,itslargeandwrinkledcuffs,its
manygreenbuttons.Someofthebuttonsweremissing,lostinthevortexoftime.Therewasasmalltearintherightsleeve:
myfather’sgunhand.Itookthegreenshirtoffitshangerandtriediton.Thebuttonslinedupperfectly,thecuffsunrolledat
theperfectlength.Iclosedmyeyesandlookedback,seeingasmall,chubbyyounglinginadarkblackcowboyhat.
“Love”istheThingBloomingby
ThompsonLau
Theseedbeginsinyourchest
Andgrowswitheveryaction
Andneverstopsgrowingdayor
night-
Andwhenitisfullydeveloped
Attheheightofspring
Itiswonderful
Agreatmomenttoexperience
“Love”isthethingblooming
Toshowthewholeworld
Andtoexpressitstruebeauty
BerrybyChazTroutman
Larrylovesberries
LarryisfriendswithJerry
JerrygetsmarriedtoMary
Mary’sbrotherisHarry
Harrylikescherries
IknowawomannamedSherrie
ShegotmarriedtoamannamedBerrie
Berrielookslikeacherry
SherrieisgoodfriendswithJerrybecausehelikesberries
LarrydecidedonedaythatberrieswereHarry
Larrystoppedeatingberries
ButSherrieconvincedLarrythatberriesweren'tHarry
JerryhasapetrhinocerosnamedCherry
Cherrygetsfedgallonsofberries
OnedayCherryateLarry
CherrysaidthatLarrytasteslikeberries
WhenLarrydiedhereincarnatedintoaberry
Larry’sneighborSherriesawCherryeatLarrysoJerrystoppedfeedingberriestoCherry
CherrygetsmadatJerry
CherrydecidestoeatJerry
Jerryalsoreincarnatedintoaberry
Cherrysoonranawayandatelotsofberries
ButafterawhileCherryranoutofberriestoeat
CherrysoonranbacktoSherrieandlivedhappilyeverafter
PhotobySpencerGreenberg
PhotobyAustinRecchi
JusticeServedbyaLifeofCrimebyBridgetOnest
ShewokeuptothesoundofrainPoundingontheceilingofherapartmentGettinglouderandlouderTheskyhadbroughtanentirebrigadeTofighttheflatroofHangingoverherheadMadetoprotectherfromthesefightsThesebattlesthreateningtodrownherroomFashionedtopreventsleeplessnightsSpentinsoakedbedsShetwistsandturnsBeggingforevenasecondofsleep'Awake'maybeexcitingwhenthesunisoutBecauseduringthetimecalleddayHumanslayoutonthestreetsHerneighborsbecomecatsBathinginitsraysasifunderwaterKingsoftheplacecalled'Procrastination''Awake'isnotthesameWhenthesunisgoneaShewantstofindsleepTootiredtoplayhideandseekStilltooawaketostaythereTheongoingwarbetweentheskyAndherflatapartmentceilingGiftstoheraheadacheAslightpoundinginherheadHerheadisnowatheaterWithonlyoneformofentertainmentThereenactingofthiswarNowsheknowsIfsheistoclosehereyesTherewouldonlybethesoundofsoldiersFiringtheirtinybulletsAtatargetmeanttobeimpenetrableSheturnsoveronherrightsideTocontemplatewhythewarmustgoonTheremustbeawaytoenditAcompromisetopleasebothsidesAnideathatwithmaketheskystopSendingitsendlessranksofsoldiersOfftothewaragainstherapartmentroofHerflatapartmentroofdesignedtoprotectherFromdrowninginaseaofhatredLastnighttheceilingwasreassuringtoherSomethinghaschangedNowitseemstheskyiswinningThattheceilingwillgiveawayCracksarealreadyformingThesky'stinysoldiersarebeginningtoseepthroughThisfightisfinallyendingTheonlyproblemisshebetontheceilingHavingatriumphantvictoryNowthatactionseemssillyHowcouldherflatapartmentceilingMadeofearthlythingsWinawaragainsttheskyAseaoftearsfarawaySomethingshecannoteventouch
SecondhandSmokebyBridgetOnest
YellowdressonfirstdateRealizedtoolateBloodstainedweddingdressHe’llonlylovetheprettiest
AwomanislikearoseIfyouwaterit,itgrowsTakecareofhereverydayPrettyshewillstay
Water,however,willnotsaveherTimecomesfortherosetowitherThegardenerwillnotwedArosethatlookshalf-dead
PhotobyMakennaWolfanger
PhotobyAvariGupta
PhotobyEmmaLammert
PhotobyLuluMcCrady
JusticeServedbyaLifeofCrimebyBridgetOnest
ShewokeuptothesoundofrainPoundingontheceilingofherapartmentGettinglouderandlouderTheskyhadbroughtanentirebrigadeTofighttheflatroofHangingoverherheadMadetoprotectherfromthesefightsThesebattlesthreateningtodrownherroomFashionedtopreventsleeplessnightsSpentinsoakedbedsShetwistsandturnsBeggingforevenasecondofsleep'Awake'maybeexcitingwhenthesunisoutBecauseduringthetimecalleddayHumanslayoutonthestreetsHerneighborsbecomecatsBathinginitsraysasifunderwaterKingsoftheplacecalled'Procrastination''Awake'isnotthesameWhenthesunisgoneaShewantstofindsleepTootiredtoplayhideandseekStilltooawaketostaythereTheongoingwarbetweentheskyAndherflatapartmentceilingGiftstoheraheadacheAslightpoundinginherheadHerheadisnowatheaterWithonlyoneformofentertainmentThereenactingofthiswarNowsheknowsIfsheistoclosehereyesTherewouldonlybethesoundofsoldiersFiringtheirtinybulletsAtatargetmeanttobeimpenetrableSheturnsoveronherrightsideTocontemplatewhythewarmustgoonTheremustbeawaytoenditAcompromisetopleasebothsidesAnideathatwithmaketheskystopSendingitsendlessranksofsoldiersOfftothewaragainstherapartmentroofHerflatapartmentroofdesignedtoprotectherFromdrowninginaseaofhatredLastnighttheceilingwasreassuringtoherSomethinghaschangedNowitseemstheskyiswinningThattheceilingwillgiveawayCracksarealreadyformingThesky'stinysoldiersarebeginningtoseepthroughThisfightisfinallyendingTheonlyproblemisshebetontheceilingHavingatriumphantvictoryNowthatactionseemssillyHowcouldherflatapartmentceilingMadeofearthlythingsWinawaragainsttheskyAseaoftearsfarawaySomethingshecannoteventouch
SecondhandSmokebyBridgetOnest
YellowdressonfirstdateRealizedtoolateBloodstainedweddingdressHe’llonlylovetheprettiest
AwomanislikearoseIfyouwaterit,itgrowsTakecareofhereverydayPrettyshewillstay
Water,however,willnotsaveherTimecomesfortherosetowitherThegardenerwillnotwedArosethatlookshalf-dead
PhotobyMakennaWolfanger
PhotobyAvariGupta
PhotobyEmmaLammert
PhotobyLuluMcCrady
PhotobyRyanMcGlaughlan
PaintingbyBridgetOnest
PhotobyGiriViswanathanPhotobyGabiJegasothy
DrawingbyReneeWilkins
PhotobyMakennaWolfanger
PhotobyReneeWilkins
PhotobyJayaPatel
TheChinaDollbyBridgetOnest
Thegirlwassixwhenhermotherboughtherthedoll
Thechinadollwithredlipsandpinkcheeks
Howthatlittlegirllovedthatdoll
Sheranhomefromschool
Everydaytoplaywiththedoll
Dressingthedollupinlittlebluegowns
Usingherownhairpiecestopullgoldenhairback
Stealinghermother’seyeliner
Drawingsmilingfacesandhearts
Onpinkcheeksandbluegowns
Howthatlittlegirlcriedwhenthatonefootbrokeoff
Shehonestlythoughtthatdollcouldfly
Littlegirlsgrowup
Makebelievegameslosetheirinterest
Dustgathersonuntouchedshelves
Moreandmorepiecesbreakoff
Thegirlwassixwhenhermotherboughtherthatdoll
Thechinadollwiththefadedlipsandsmudgedcheeks
Goldenhairwiththeclumpsofdrieddirt
Wornbluegownsstrewnacrosstheclosetfloor
Thegirlwaseighteenwhenshegraduatedfromhighschool
Onherwaytocollege
Lookingthroughthecloset
Sortingthroughdustyshelves
Handsfindafamiliarshape
Thechinadollwhowipedthetearsfromthatlittlegirl’seyes
Whoflewdownthestairswithunbelievablegrace
Laughedatthelittlegirl’slacklusterjokes
ThechinadollwhofellinlovewithBennie
Thatlittledogwholivedacrossthestreet
Forasecondthegirlpauses
Andlooksintothoseeyes
Theeyesthatwereonceabrilliantgreen
Butshesawonlygray
Andthatonce-littlegirl
Threwthatchinadollaway
PhotobyReneeWilkinsandEmmaLammert
CastandCrewofSSA'sLiteraryMagazine
KajaCutlip
SPENCERGREENBERG
BridgetOnest
RachelSilvermanKatieSparvero
Ms.Castleman
CongratulationstoAvariGupta,ourcoverartist!GREATPHOTO!
SPIRAL
STAIRCASE
2016
