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The Unknown
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Nina Cohen-Perlmutter ’23
no one knows slightly after 10 on a saturday night, she disappeared, slipped through our fingers after one last jagged breath. right before 7 on a sunday morning, watching Friends on a computer, he clomped up the stairs to deliver the news.
his shaking arm around her shoulder, they sobbed together in the fluorescent light.
4 o’clock on a Sunday afternoon, realization, remembrance, desperation, anger.
right before 7 on a monday morning, the day before was only a nightmare, the months before were fuzzy.
9:30 on a wednesday, faces filled with pity no one knows what to say why don’t they know what to say? stark walls suits and dresses their voices reverberate around the room. sitting on green chairs, surrounded by silence. five years ago, she was in my place.
11 o’clock on wednesday walking hand in hand through the mud, holding on for dear life. I will never let go.
Forbidden Forest
Flower
Waning Gibbous
How to Be a Disappointment
Audrey Chuang ’23
Don’t get out of bed stay a little longer. Don’t listen to them as they tell you not to ponder. Make a mess. Act lazy. Be loud. Be crazy. Waste the day Don’t cry, just play, nobody will care anyway.
