Day: November 28, 2016

Home 2016 November 28 (Monday)
Christmas: a short story
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Christmas: a short story

By LING LIN Staff Writer Jack and Mary are walking down the street. “I’m shivering. The night’s getting cold.” Mary turns to her brother, whose hands are crossed over his chest and head hidden under his hood. “Oh yeah, it’s almost winter.” “People say we don’t have winter here.” Jack halts and takes a breath....

Hemlock Bay: a poem
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Hemlock Bay: a poem

By DARRIUS ESTIGOY Staff Writer When standing in a midnight wind’s reeling, The mind is deafened to any real feeling. Contradiction and paradox run amok, While thoughts are trapped beneath muck. Everything ended before anything had started. Affection and all her friends departed. All that remained were the crowd uncouth And broken skin painted shades...

Field of Daisies: a short story
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Field of Daisies: a short story

By ARIYANA ASH Staff Writer I open my eyes and drowsily take in my surroundings. I feel the sunshine warming my bare arms, and the cool blades of grass poking my back. I look to my left and see him by my side. He is always here for me, the only constant in my life. Amongst...

Company: a short story
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Company: a short story

By LING LIN Staff Writer It is past six, and the sun is already down. The sky is as dark as the pressed fabric of his jacket; the café table shakes slightly as the tip of his pen dances on his paper. An untouched muffin sits at its edge. He works alone in a corner....

Grandma: a short story
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Grandma: a short story

By LING LIN Staff Writer The old lady forgets when she starts to spend the afternoon sitting on her wheelchair in the backyard, alone, and falls asleep before finishing the newspaper in her hands. It was her own idea to live independently after her husband passed away a decade ago, but at the same time...

Bee: a soliloquy
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Bee: a soliloquy

By DARRIUS ESTIGOY Staff Writer I am sitting on a park bench. The bench is made out of metal and feels cool to the touch. Good thing I wore a coat today. It’s rather chilly. I’m eating lunch right now. It looks like a burger and it tastes like beef. It’s probably not, come to...

Waiting in the Wings: a poem
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Waiting in the Wings: a poem

By ANONYMOUS As I sit here waiting, My fate and character hanging In the balance of life and death, I step back and take a deep breath. Everything will end as quickly as it started. Audition to strike night, so swiftly departed! And that briefest moment of lime-lit glory makes worthwhile all the “thank yous”...