Konekshon Skondí

Page 1

KONEKSHON SKONDร Conexiรณn oculto Verborgen verbinding Hidden link

Writers Festival Curacao

curacaowritersfestival


MISHANE ARRENDELL JURADO I ORGANSIDADOR

Festival di Escritor Korsou Online Fin di febrüari 2020 Covid-19 a kuminsa bira un realidat pa Kòrsou, un realidat ku niun hende por a pensa. Un realidat nunka visto. Un realidat irreal. Un realidat hamas bo lo por a spera. Ront mundo tabata den un lucha ku Covid-19 pero na Kòrsou nos tabata eséptiko. Den e tempu ey nos tabata bezig ta organisá un Writers Festival ku lo a tuma lugá dia 3 di aprel, pero dia pa dia mi tabata wak ku esaki tabata birando hopi skur. Kada bes tabata tin algu ku ta ponemi pensa miho postponé e evento aki. I tur kos tabata bai den tempu rápido. Mi tabata puntra mi mes: Kiko ta pasa si toch


MISHANE ARRENDELL

e vírus drenta den nos pais of den e pais bisiñanan? Nos mester kanselá tur kos last minut? Dicho echo, manera Covid a batí na porta di Kòrsou nos a hanja nos ta kanselá e festival. Esaki lo a bira un tempu difísil kaminda tur hende lo tin nan opstákulo personal. E úniko kos ku a yudami den e tempu aki tabata ku mi por a lesa i kompartì e sentimentunan di ansha, of soledat ku otro personan a traves di social media. Esaki por a aliviá e tenshon. E ideá pa pone nos sentimentunan i pensamentu riba papel a nasé i asina tambe e Festival di Escritor Korsou Online. Un festival kaminda tur hende por participá


MISHANE ARRENDELL

grandi i chiki, kaminda no ta importá kua idioma bo ta papia i si bo ta kanta, konta, skibi of rap. Nos a traha hopi duru pa por a logra e mishon aki. I mi ta spera di fondo di mi kurashon ku abo lo disfruta meskos ku nos e miembro di jurado a disfrutá di kada persona su obra ku nos a publiká den e buki “Konekshon Skondí”. Ban selebrá idioma den kada forma ku e por ekspresá su mes. I danki na Arjen Wientjes miho konosí kome Wiene ku ta apoyá e projekto aki finansieramente i emoshonalmente. Sin Wiene e projekto aki no lo por a bira realidad.


MISHANE ARRENDELL

Biba tur idioma, biba tur palabra, Mishane Arrendell Jurado i organsidador di e online writers festival.


ARJEN WIENTJES JURY, SCHRIJVER EN MEDE­ORGANISATOR

Toen ik in 2018 bezig was met het schrijven van een nieuwe thriller was het als altijd weer een uitdaging om een passend titel te bedenken. Uiteindelijk werd het Schrijnend Contrast. Het verhaal speelde zich natuurlijk weer af op het heerlijke Curaçao. Toen was het fictie. Wie had ooit kunnen bedenken dat deze titel een paar jaar later zou kunnen staan voor non-fictie. Het effect van het coronavirus is zo schrijnend dat het bijna met geen pen te beschrijven valt. Als een granaat die insloeg met de precisie van een langeafstandswapen bleef ook Curaçao niet gespaard. De totale lockdown heeft verwoestende effecten die onze generatie


ARJEN WIENTJES

nog nooit heeft meegemaakt. Een paar keer

per

week

boodschappen

doen,

beeldbellen en alle scholen dicht stonden in schil contrast met de mensenlevens die geofferd werden en het beroep dat werd gedaan op de zorg en andere vitale beroepen. Toch had het thuiszitten een klein lichtpuntje. Toen wij met ons digitale schrijvers platform opriepen om eigen werk in te sturen, werd daar massaal gehoor aan gegeven. Poems, short story’s, raps en ander geluidsopnamen werden in grote getalen ingezonden. De meeste werken hielden direct verband met het schrijnend contrast waar mensen mee geconfronteerd werden. Een enkeling schreef over andere thema’s. Maar allemaal waren het indrukwekkende werken die


ARJEN WIENTJES

een weerspiegeling zijn van de diepe emoties van mensen. Van jong tot oud, van Papiamentstalig tot stukken in het Engels, Spaans en Nederlands. We hebben een selectie van de talrijke werken gebundeld. Een vakjury van gerenommeerde schrijvers en makers hebben de werken met veel aandacht geanalyseerd en gewaardeerd, waarvoor dank. De bundel is tot stand gekomen tijdens de lockdown maar met de bedoeling om een aanzet te geven tot een totale lift off! Veel lees & luisterplezier, Arjen Wientjes/WIENE Schrijver en medeorganisator van het Writers Festival Curaรงao


ARJEN WIENTJES JURY, WRITER AND CO-ORGANIZER

When in 2018 I was busy writing a new thriller, it was a challenge to find a fitting title. Eventually, it became ‘Shocking contrast’. The story took place in beautiful Curacao. Back then, it was a fictional one. Who would have thought that this story would eventually become rather nonfictional? The effects as a result of the Coronavirus are so shocking that no words could ever describe them. Like a bomb with the precision of long-range missiles, Curacao also got hit. The total lockdown has had devastating effects, with a size unknown to our generation. Doing the groceries, video calling, and not being able to go to class, are a contrast to


ARJEN WIENTJES

the life’s lost and the call for action to the people working in hospitals and other vital sectors. However, staying at home has also had some positive effects; When we asked artists to send in work, the response was enormous. Poems, short stories, rap lines and other recordings were sent in huge amounts. Most artworks held a strong connection to the shocking contrast people got confronted with. Some of the artists wrote about different themes. But all of the impressive artworks were a reflection of the deep emotions felt by all people. Young, old, Papiamentu, English, Spanish, and Dutch; all sorts of works and people reached us. We’ve bundled a selection of these works. A jury consisting


ARJEN WIENTJES

of renowned writers and artists out of other work fields have analyzed and valued the works, for which I’d like to thank them. Whilst this bundle has been put together during the lockdown, its purpose is to totally lift off! Lots of reading and listening pleasure, Arjen Wientjes WIENE Writer and co-organizer of the Writers Festival Curacao


TABLE OF CONTENT

Anna Milka Arjun

13

Ludmar Casimir

15

Oriada Dajko

17

Inorca Rudolph

18

Jaime Pena

22

Jada Rose

32

Vivial Lucasius

34

Nadine van Maasakker

42

Arshanti Tramm

44

Sabitah Lanoy

53

Nathalie Zimmerman

56

Zane Jafeth Mercelina

58

Tamara Neuman

63

Mariana J. Pereira Severino

80

Alexine Hollander

88

Ariel Robinson

108

Ilse Schoobaar

110

Jurado / Jury

115

Top 3 winners


ANNA MILKA ARJUN SEASONS

Let’s remember all the things we took for granted Conversing with a stranger, not having to think about the danger A handshake, a hug, a kiss, Things we didn’t think we’d miss A loved one, a parent, a friend These are the things that matter in the end We may be feeling stressed, But we’re realizing all the ways in which we’re blessed Time with family, time to reflect, Time to do all the things we always neglect


ANNA MILKA ARJUN

Because in times of adversity, Life can become a university, Little do we know, That hardships are meant to make us grow So we will continue to fight, Until everything somehow feels right There may be tough times And there may be days when nothing rhymes But just remember that seasons aren’t here to last And that this too, shall pass.


LUDMAR CASIMIR SALI BAI KWE PLAY ME

Intro: Si esaki ta Luti, tur loke bo ke den e bida aki bo tin ku sali bai busk’é, Paso man krusa e no ta yega serka bo. Ref: Sali bai kue hei Sali bai kue, tur loke ku bo ke mi di Sali bai kue Hei Sali bai kuesi Sali bai kue Si bo ke algu den e bida Sali bai kue Verso: 1 Lanta tur dia ban move bon ban, no keda drumi stèns ku for di laira e ta kai Lanta tur dia ban buska pida pan,no keda drumi stèns ku for di laira e ta kai


LUDMAR CASIMIR

Un bida dushi- Sali bai kue Wak bo mes bai dilanti- Sali bai kue Bo mes negoshi- Sali bai kue Biba independiente - Sali bai kue Ban lanta ariba- Sali bai kue Ref: Sali bai kue si Sali bai kue, Si bo ke algu den e bida Sali bai kue Midi Sali bai kue si Sali bai kue Si bo ke algu den e bida Sali bai kue Outro: Esaki ta dedikรก na esun ku tur dia mi ta wak den spil, I mi ta bis E, ban lanta ariba tuma akshon e bida aki den bo man e ta, bo futuro ta den bo man Sali bo bai kue


ORIADA DAJKO MATRYOSHKA

In your world, inside your country, in your town, inside your house, in your family... ... strangers came around. Even inside you... language was never found.


INORCA RUDOLPH THE UNWEARABLE CROWN

PLAY ME

“I don’t know... I don’t know... I don’t know...” Because of the unknown we see fear and believe we are losing control We see the government making rules and regulations while protecting our elderly and future generations. Making sure that all of us are carrying out our main goal: sending this crown into a “black hole.”


INORCA RUDOLPH

So that the human race can make a victorious comeback! It is time for us to unify so we don’t have to say goodbye to the pillars that helped shape our times. Our health care system depends on our cooperation. And it is our moral obligation to help and to protect our most vulnerable population. That is why together: as one global nation… “We will obey … and choose social distance!”


INORCA RUDOLPH

Restoring our global health are the cards that we have been dealt. That is why we are embracing our own responsibility and exploring every possibility. So that all is done through “social distancing activity.� Collectively assuming this responsibility while still practicing solidarity will lead to stability. The human race will be epic in combatting this pandemic. All of us: united and working together so we can overcome this mother (beep).


INORCA RUDOLPH

The health of our community is more important than our economy: It is our main priority. That is why together as one global nation we will keep our social distance and eliminate this virus’ existence.

BACKGROUND MUSIC by Fearless Motivation Instrumentals: iTunes: https://goo.gl/2mF7gr GooglePlay: https://goo.gl/d754Fw Spotify: https://goo.gl/Uxmswh AmazonMP3: http://geni.us/BackgroundMusic


JAIME PENA KONTRASTE KANDENTE

Existe un lugar maravilloso y de sueños que se ubica al norte de América del sur muy cerca del Ecuador; un lugar virtuoso lleno de colores donde la brisa juega con tu cabello, el cielo te cuenta grandes historias; es una tierra de personajes increíbles y valientes. Ahí hay tesoros que no se pueden esconder; existe el único desierto en medio de una ciudad y allí su brisa y sus dunas te regalan la libertad de volver a ser niño. Tiene también una de las caídas de agua más altas del mundo y los que han estado cerca cuentan con mucho brillo en sus ojos este espectáculo, hablan de lo fresco del clima, que hay agua en el ambiente y que el sonido te hace sentir


JAIME PENA

afortunado. En solo algunas horas puedes pasar de la playa con su calor y sal a la frescura y dulzura del campo y la montaña. Es un verdadero paraíso y es un bonito destino por sus bondades naturales y la buena vibra que brindan sus habitantes; gente linda, gente feliz, gente amable que disfruta vivir así. Por un buen tiempo la dicha era el estilo de vida de personas que amaban saber que su hogar era un paraíso, en el que los niños tenían como juguetes grandes sabanas para corretear y lanzar sonrisas al viento, arboles muy frondosos que les permitían vivir experiencias e inventar nuevas historias cada día y sus playas son el destino perfecto para vacacionar,


JAIME PENA

descansar y sobre todo reencontrarte con buenos amigos. Durante mucho tiempo algunas de estas personas han tenido que descubrir y enamorarse de nuevos lugares y maravillas a las que han llegado con la visión y el sueño de sentirse en casa, pero que tristemente no podrá nunca sustituir todo lo que dejaron atrás. Emprendieron nuevos senderos con el corazón en sus manos, su cabeza llena de dudas y los ojos inundados de imágenes de sus familias tristes con lagrimas contenidas para no empeorar la escena. Ha de haber sido como un divorcio en el momento que el amor se hacía más espontaneo, como ese horrendo momento cuando un cazador arranca una pequeña


JAIME PENA

cría de los brazos de su madre. Debió sentirse como poco a poco se desgarraba cada fibra de un corazón que antes latía al unísono de unos padres y una familia que comía y soñaban juntos; por la que en el fondo guarda sus fuerzas para luchar con uñas y dientes por una mejor forma de vida. Entendieron que lo aprendido en casa era simplemente preparación para hacer las cosas bien, incluso cuando no sabíamos que sería necesario, que las sonrisas y los buenos tratos que nos hicieron practicar serian el inicio del arte de cautivar corazones que se vuelven a tu favor y que serán apoyo en tu causa. Aun sentado y con el rumbo frente a sus ojos seguían las dudas y crecía la ansiedad


JAIME PENA

de no saber qué habría luego de bajar de ese avión. Aun con los ojos cargados de lágrimas pero con mucha ilusión en medio de nubes era visible un nuevo amor, una nueva hoja en blanco, un nuevo inicio, en verdad un nuevo despertar. Una pequeña sonrisa de miedo fue el punto de partida de una nueva historia. Adaptarse a nuevos colores y culturas nunca fue tan duro, pero en su sonrisa se encontraban las ganas de avanzar, días grises y algunos a full color, lagrimas de dolor y frustración que en ocasiones son arrastradas por grandes sonrisas de “Puedo lograrlo”, se hicieron el escudo, y canciones de gracias serian su himno. Algunos sueñan con volver, otros ya han echado raíces y han llenado de sus colores,


JAIME PENA

sabores y ritmos ese pedazo de tierra donde han sentido libertad de poder ser. Pero justo cuando el péndulo en completa calma apuntaba fijo al suelo, comenzaría una nueva tormenta, un nuevo terremoto de emociones que desordenan todo. Recuerdos y anhelos se reproducían como películas ante sus ojos sin saber a qué se enfrentaban. Unos de pie, otros ya tendidos sobre el suelo y algunos de rodillas con calma y detenimiento observaban detalladamente como cuando de niños llegaba un nuevo amiguito a la escuela. Con el tiempo apareció un gran enemigo; invisible, potente, amenazante que crecía y se hacía espacio entre las personas que atentas a un posible ataque detenían sus rutinas en medio del miedo por ser


JAIME PENA

alcanzado. Como en medio de una guerra todos

reforzaron

sus

guarniciones

y

cerraron sus puertas y ventanas. El miedo se respiraba en algunas zonas mientras en otras con mucha seguridad intentaron mostrar su superioridad ante el monstruo invisible y comenzaron a caer y desplomarse en las calles y plazas de algunas ciudades, el

mundo

estaba

sufriendo;

estaba

arrastrando una carga casi imposible de cargar, las familias lloraban difuntos en ataĂşdes vacios, debĂ­an enterrar solo en la mente a sus seres queridos muertos, gritaban sin voz oraciones y sentimientos de perdĂłn. Algunos se volvieron la visita incluso en su propio hogar; llegar a casa, desnudarte y lavar tu cabeza y tus manos como en algunas culturas, los


JAIME PENA

besos se habrían acabado y lo mismo con los abrazos. El calor humano solo se experimentaba en palabras y la empatía poco a poco se veía empañada por lagrimas de dolor e indignación, todos necesitando comprensión en medio de tanta confusión que les hacia olvidar como es comprender. Encender la tv seria una tortura ya no cantabas con la publicidad sino que sentías como los medios introducían su dedo dentro de ese golpe silencioso que como estigma se hizo en tu cuerpo sin darte cuenta. Por largo tiempo seguíamos esclavos del silencio y de la indiferencia de una amenaza que se acrecentaba en medio de desinformación y necesidad de una normalida a la cual ya se había revocado


JAIME PENA

pronto la normalidad seria un nuevo estilo al hacer las cosas, la marea volvia a ser serena y las costas se hacían visibles aun con dificultad al fin del dia existía la posibilidad de volver a puerto seguro. Y aunque el mar seguía revuelto los rayos del sol seguían regalando la ilusión de un nuevo amanecer; amanecer a una realidad que nos cambiaria la vida y la forma de hacer las cosas. Una nueva normalidad que no nos acercaría, no devolvería el tiempo ni las ilusiones pausadas de volver. Algunos de esos corazones viajeros que hoy se han regado por el mundo es el mío, algunos son también mis amigos a los que ahora no puedo abrazar; pero de los que estoy seguro que están dando luz y mucho amor a todo el que se acerca a ellos. Mis


JAIME PENA

ojos también se llenaron de lagrimas e ilusión se han vaciado y vuelto a llenar muchas veces, pero sigo llenando de amor cada espacio que alcanzo en Curazao. Sueño con volver y abrazarlos a todos; pero también recuerdo que todos hemos volado y hecho un nuevo nido, iniciado un nuevo ciclo, sin embargo sueño con tener una casa cerquita de mar, sueño con respirar del yodo que desprende el mar en su oleaje y tomarme un café mientras veo el sol caer.


JADA ROSE PLEASE, DISTANCE YOURSELF

Far away from each-other, not being able to show affection to strangers with a handshake nor a hug An island known for its warmth towards others. Now it’s, as cold as the 5am shower water. Making us practice social-distancing, but realizing that we were distanced from each-other, in the past for instance where we used to sit at the dinner table, but the only words we shared,


JADA ROSE

were the ones that made our followers care. Beaches finally being able to breathe, the beauty of being isolated. Not being contaminated. But this new normal wasn’t new afterall. we were too busy being busy, to realize that sometimes you just have to distance yourself, To find yourself.


VIVIAL LUCASIUS FAITH OVER FEAR

It was a clear afternoon, just before the sun was starting to take its journey down on the other side of the horizon. You could feel a hint of breeze softly caressing your face; it continued to sway the wind catcher as it played a light tinkling sound. This in contrast to the loud music coming from a radio poised on the kitchen table. The music had a swing to it enticing you to come on let’s dance and feel the groove. Jewel. a short chubby dark skin curly hair young girl of 15, together with her best friend Faith from way back looking quite the opposite of Jewel, but each sharing the love of music and dance together.


VIVIAL LUCASIUS

As the music was playing you could hear them singing at the top of their lungs, enjoying some dance moves together and laughing out loud as the one tried to outshine the other, not only musically, but also in their dance steps. Swirling around in the kitchen, not noticing Faith’s mother, Grace, with a basket full of laundry entering the kitchen and, as was expected, the collision was inevitable. In the first instance shock, a look of surprise followed by a burst of laughter from Faith as she saw her mother juggling to catch the clothes that went flying through the air. Front row seat performance as the act unfolded what would the outcome be.


VIVIAL LUCASIUS

To

everybody’s

consequence,

delight

maybe

no

some

major muscles

were stretched out to the breaking point showing their flexibility. In the end Jewel, Faith and her mother had a good laugh as they sat around the table, listening to the music playing on the radio, enjoying a cool refreshing drink to celebrate their survival of the head-on collision. Suddenly the radio fell silent as if sensing something out of the ordinary was about to take place. Grace looked up, trying to figure out what was wrong with the radio. Jewel and Faith looked at each other wondering if just maybe they had a part in the radio’s malfunction. Did they turn it on too loud damaging the speakers?


VIVIAL LUCASIUS

Soon enough the announcer came on back again and, in a somber strong tone, announced that he had breaking news. The president was about to address the nation. Jewel, Faith and her mother stood still; the clock on the wall, ticking the seconds away, seemed to sound louder than their own heartbeat. It is with great regret, the president was saying, that on our island the inevitable has occurred. We have just been informed that the covid 19 corona virus is in our island and to prevent its spreading and becoming something we cannot contain as per immediately we are in full lockdown until further notice. No person is allowed to be on the street for any reason except our first responders. We must and we shall overcome this pandemic from leaving


VIVIAL LUCASIUS

havoc on our beautiful island. Grace exhaled deeply as it sank in what she just heard on the radio. No, she encouraged herself, I must remember Faith over Fear. We will get over this. Jewel began to cry as fear took hold of her. She had heard all the bad reports of what the virus was doing all over the world, people dying and medical supplies running out; deep down in her heart she had hoped that it would stay far away from her dushi Kòrsou. Faith took her hand and tried as best as she could to let her know everything will be all right. And what was it her mother told her just the other day. Faith over Fear. She smiled at Jewel and told her Faith over Fear we will be all right. Jewel nodded silently as she noticed how calm Faith’s mother


VIVIAL LUCASIUS

remained despite the terrible news that came over the radio. She told herself as she tried to calm herself: Faith over Fear. Suddenly a loud piercing sound was heard, Grace picked up the phone and gently smiled at Jewel telling her it is for you it is your mother. “Yes mom,” you could hear Jewel answer, but before she could say another word you could hear her mother from the other side talking at the top of her voice. “But mom,” Jewel tried to answer, but to no avail. If I did not know better I would say Jewel’s mother was right there in the room next to her. Her nervous frightened agitated tone of


VIVIAL LUCASIUS

voice was clearly heard over the phone. After what seemed like forever Jewel hung up the phone and quickly said with a shy smile: “I have to go”. Jewel could just not understand her mother’s hysterical reaction, already imagining her lying in the hospital sick with the virus on a ventilating machine, struggling to breath. It’s a touch and go situation, no hope, only fear that something worse will happen, that this total lockdown will drive people crazy, make them desperate for a solution, and none is at hand. And here she was at her friend Faith’s house, hearing the same news and, on the contrary, they seemed as calm as can be.


VIVIAL LUCASIUS

Might make you wonder if they both heard the same breaking news. Or was she just dreaming. She will wake up and find out it was all a dream. No, Grace was just telling her to hurry and not be late. Your mother will be worried if you don’t hurry along. Jewel took a deep breath, and just when she was about to turn to leave, Faith reminded her Faith over Fear. Jewel smiled. She knew now what it was and with a big smile she waved them goodbye and told herself Faith over Fear.


NADINE VAN MAASAKKER MI TA PUNTRA MI MES

PLAY ME

Mi ta puntra mi mes, ta kon Korsòu lo bira Awor ku e korona devastador ta reboltiá nos mundu kompleto Obligando nos “normal” di bira “speshal” Mi ta puntra mi mes, ta kon Korsòu lo bira Si e pan di awe mèrdia Ta e último kuminda di dia? Pena lo por transforma den legria? Mi ta puntra mi mes, ta kon Korsòu lo bira Si kada biaha sierto lidernan ku wòrdu skohé Ta keda skohe pa nan mes Enbes di drenta akshon I bria ku bon aktuashon


NADINE VAN MAASAKKER

Mi ta puntra mi mes, ta kon Korsòu lo bira Un pueblo siglonan largu na kaminda Ku tantu reto pa enfrentá Ta kana tambaliá Buskando moda pa wordu aliviá Rosea, serka di terminá Mi ta puntra mi mes, ta kon Korsòu lo bira Pasobra net nada lo sosodé Si nos keda sinta mira No tin tempu mas pa kana hasi kos fo’i sla Si no ta nos tur ta keda mal pará Tuma responsabilidat…..AWOR! Lucha i defendé nos honor Usa bo talento i kapasidat Stop di ta katibu di bo mes mentalidat Pa nos baranka tan stimá Bin bèk fuerte i prosperá


ARSHANTI TRAMM PATHOGEN

My brain, filled with the fogs of yesterdays turmoil. Yet, I rise up to the moments and days. Ever since the Corona outbreak, I sit in front of this laptop every week trying to figure if this lady can help me bring a solution to my slightly wrecked mind. I think she might find a way to erase the many nightmares I have recently been having. My parents were mostly away due to work, but that was ok. I was happy with the silence at home. I reckon I never told them I decided to chat with this lady weekly now. Not that they’d care to know as long as I walk and talk it is always fine. We used this app that was made for us. My insurance paid everything for me. So,


ARSHANTI TRAMM

it was a quick download and being n time every week. The perk of having this lady to talk to, is that I am not bored all the time. It began with Jonathan; a small young baby boy who had issues with being alone. I was asked by my parents to babysit him, because his parents worked at the hospital. Not that I agreed with them on fulfilling this task, rather they forced me into it and named it, “my new set of responsibilities.”. They were always angry at me because I didn’t clean the house on time or forgot to take the frozen meat out. Maybe babysitting Jonathan would bring some sense of maturity I think, or at least is what I thought they’d think. Everything was going just fine, until baby Jonathan began to cry. Honestly I didn’t know what to do, I


ARSHANTI TRAMM

was petrified. I wanted to calm him, soothe him, so I grabbed a pillow and put him to sleep. Soon, little Jonathan cried no more. A tear dropped from my face as I put him in his crib. I left the house, although it was midnight. “What happened to Jonathan?” the lady asked. I think it would be a normal question a psychiatrist could ask their patients. “He was sound asleep.” I replied and looked outside the window. The mood felt like one of those horror movies and yet it was not. “How do you feel about this story?” She asked. “Feel?” I asked while still looking outside. “Alright, what did you think?” she asked to deviate from the possibility of me not being able to explain the sense of emotion.


ARSHANTI TRAMM

I smiled. “I already told you, the baby was sound asleep and that is what I thought. Also, I felt calm.” With the question answered my brain went on a new journey. Talysha, was the girl of my dreams. She was not only gorgeous but had these brown curls that reached her buttocks. Anyone would fall for her, even I. Not that I’d want to touch her, but only watch her. She loved to go swimming, but her parents would not always allow it. She spoke to me one day and asked me to speak to her parents for her. Her parents liked me. So, they said yes, and she went swimming with me. Yet, there was Robert. I did not like him very much. I never told Talysha because if I did it would sound as if I was meticulous. I didn’t want to pry, but asked her anyway. “Why


ARSHANTI TRAMM

did you use me to come meet Robert, why didn’t you tell me that was your intention in the first place?” She didn’t seem too flattered about my question. But it was not my intention to flatter her either way. I just had wish she was more honest with me. “I do like Robert, but I don’t like your question. If you wish you can swim nearby but please let me have my time.” I felt used, but I decided to not engage. I saw her kiss Robert and then they went to play a game. Of course, I love to play games too. They wanted to dive under each other’s legs and then while under water, touch the raft a little further. Robert went first and then swam back. Talysha went next. The problem was, she dived in, but never came up. I left, because I got bored and there


ARSHANTI TRAMM

was a curfew. “She drowned?” My psychiatrist asked. I smiled and looked at her. “You make of me a murderer doctor?” I touched the lid of my computer “What is it?” She asked with a worried face. “Our session is over isn’t?” I walked closed the lid and took a nap. After that session, I knew I had to wait for a long time again. I decided to visit Jason, a good friend. We love to sit and play chess, but mostly he loves to pass his hand on my back. I think, he is by far, the most trustworthy friend I have. He never works on my nerves, but his mother Ingrid though. She is dreadful. I went to pour some juice by myself because Jason told me that I am family and therefore can and am allowed to pour my


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own drinks. Yet Ingrid thought otherwise. She was afraid I would bring the virus into their tiny family. I just thought. There are worse ways to die. You see, Ingrid was so annoying that I decided that day to buy my own drink. I bought rum that day and drank it with Jason. Ingird walked in on us. She was frustrated and scolded me. I had to leave Jason, but was glad we finished the drink. I really wanted to relax. I was agitated and went home. I called my psychiatrist again. She seemed very calm and said that I could video call her the following day if I pleased. Jason though, did not call me. I thought he hated me. After a while I slept, I guess the rum had done enough. When I woke up, I had four missed calls. I called back. Jason picked


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up. “Hey!” You see, Jason never would answer the phone with such a dry ‘hey’. So, I asked him what happened. He told me that his mother had tried to kill herself and he burst out crying. I tried to calm him down through the phone. But one of the hardest things would be to console your friend through the phone. I wanted to go to him, but he said that the virus would not even allow him to see her mother’s burial. I sighed. “Be strong! I am here for you if you need anything.” I told him. I hung up the phone and decided to call my psychiatrist. The TV was on. I saw Talysha on the news. She had a terrible accident apparently. They said that she went swimming and must’ve hit her head on the cliffs nearby. Although worried I opened my laptop and


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tried chatting to my psychiatrist. Yet this time, there was no application. I checked my phone because I did call her earlier, but her number was not there‌


SABITAH LANOY THE PERSON WITHIN

Let’s take a trip inside my mind, Even though I’m afraid of what I’ll find. But I have to take time and reflect or I’ll keep spinning in the same loop just cause I’m trying to deflect, the harsh truth about who I am on the inside, cause honestly that’s not something I think I could survive. What you see is not what you get, what you see is a portrait that I project. I know that it is not good to lie to yourself and be naive, but that is better than accepting that this is really me.


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Have I no control over my destiny? Is this really my reality? When I tour inside I see fear and anxiety, but what i project is courage and bravery. I see insecurities and lots of it, but what I project is the polar opposite. Cause I can’t let people know the real me, the pain of that is just too hard you see. But I can’t keep up this act it’s eating me up from the inside what should I do my brain is racked. I’m this close to giving up hope, I tried all the ways that i could possibly cope with the plethora of personalities that I possess,


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I’ve been living my life like an actress. Just when I’m giving in, I hear His voice sayin’: “My child have I not called you? My dear am I not with you? Inner peace is what I gave, So every time you feel this way just call on My name, and I will make you sane. Thank you Lord for sticking with me through thick and thin. Loving me, even though You knew the person within


NATHALIE ZIMMERMAN TIL DEATH MAKES US ART

We are born invincible Bruised and broken with time Worn down and torn open wide For you must learn how to be human or take your chances against the tides For forever may be just a second yet the lesson an eternity in disguise When we take for granted our tomorrows not knowing when we’ll utter our last goodbyes Love simplified, all you have to do is feel it And I know it may not seem enough To tear down your walls and sweep away the dust but see I’m prepared to love you no matter what the cost


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And you, a living oath that our love will never be lost I will not dare say that i found the meaning of life But I know now, life without you has no meaning


ZANE JAFETH MERCELINA HOW ALL OF US SAVED THE WORLD

Once upon a time, there was a place called earth where everyone seemed happy but deep inside they weren’t. There were families that were falling apart and discriminated. A lot of teenage girls were insecure and many of the boys copied each other’s behavior and styles. Everyone put on a smile even when they were sad, mad or lonely. The animals were in great danger and the earth was getting polluted. The ocean and beaches were filled with plastic. Don’t get me wrong, there are still good people in this world, but only the positive ones could see it.


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One day a bunch of people were captured by a mad scientist named Dr. Covid. He was scary at first but when the people noticed that he wasn’t attacking everyone, they started joking about him. But he was smart. He was just fooling them. When everyone thought it was over, he flew across the town with his mechanical wings and kidnapped thousands of people. All super heroes tried to stop him, but they couldn’t. Superman, Superwoman, Cat woman, Super Ninja and the rest. But nothing could be done. Super Discovery Boy found out something very important. He found out that Dr. Covid would only get stronger and stronger, as long as everyone were on the streets.


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Covid was not able to get into people’s houses. So everyone had to stay inside. Besides that, if everybody washed their hands constantly, their hands would be slippery. This way he couldn’t get to them and make them sick. Super Discovery Boy also found out that if you stay 6 feet away, Covid can’t catch you. His machinery is too small to catch you. This great discovery was told to the whole world, but more than half of the people would not listen. Even though things started to get better, it wasn’t good enough. Some heroes got caught, together with children and adults of all ages. The tall and short, the big and small, boys and girls. They were getting kidnaped by Covid. After three people


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died, one person said: “you know what I’m gonna do, I will close my shop so that I can help stop Covid”. Another person said: “I’m gonna stay inside until Covid is defeated”. Another one said: “we all have to do it. Together we will defeat Covid”. Everyone got inside their houses and started to chant together; “we will defeat together, we will defeat Covid”. And so, everybody remained inside. All cars were taken off the road. The pollution started to go away and the animals were happier. Everyone decided to find ways to connect with the earth and enjoy nature. Teenagers were finding their selves and accepting themselves. Soon Covid savored over the town for the last time and now everyone


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was really happy. And this time they were not faking a smile. They were glad. Now everyone can call themselves Heroes. -THE END-


TAMARA NEUMAN THE DIARIES

Leah March 21, 2020: This is stupid! I don’t want to write in this stupid diary. I don’t even like to write. I mean really, who does that anymore? It’s not even a digital diary; I told her there was an app for that, but noooo, she wants me to ‘give the phone a rest’ and actually write BY HAND! That’s beyond old school, it is prehistoric shit! I can’t even add emojis to show how pointless this is. Does my mom really think that writing in this stupid thing is going to make up for me not being able to see my friends? For not being able to see Dylan? I’m not a child or an idiot. And yet, my mom


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has me locked up in this house as if the outside world is ground zero and this is the only safe zone on the planet! She is going way above and beyond. I just don’t get it. I miss my friends…I miss Dylan. She could at least let us sit outside in the garden. THIS SUCKS! March 22, 2020: Oh yeah, I forgot to write it yesterday. Dear Diary, That’s how you’re supposed to start your entries in this stupid thing, right? Okay then, Dear Diary, My mom still won’t let me see Dylan. At least we can facetime. But it’s just not the same…we can’t touch or kiss through a damn screen. I really want to understand why my mom is being so over the top paranoid about this


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pandemic. Why is she the only one taking these unnecessary, drastic measures? March 23, 2020: Dear Diary, My mother is really driving me nuts. She’s getting more paranoid by the second. She’s constantly disinfecting all surfaces; I don’t think the hospital is as sterile as this house! And she’s basically barricaded us inside, we don’t even go to the grocery store; she orders whatever we need online and has it delivered at our doorstep. I really, really miss Dylan. I can’t wait till we can finally be together again. I miss him so much.


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March 24, 2020: Dear Diary, It’s getting worse, not better. There is simply no reasoning with my mom. She won’t even discuss the possibility of my leaving the house or Dylan coming over. What is up with her?! This is getting out of hand. Her constant checking up on me is also getting worse, she’s probably going to start sneaking a peak at my diary any day now…that is, if she hasn’t already! March 25, 2020: Dear Diary, I’ve had enough! Tonight, I’m going to sneak out and meet Dylan whether my mom likes it or not. I didn’t want to do this behind her back, but it really is her own fault. If she


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had at least given me some freedom to see Dylan once in a while, I wouldn’t be doing this. She’s being completely unreasonable, and I don’t get why. But I also no longer care. All I care about is finally seeing Dylan again. I think being locked up all this time is what’s actually making me sick; my throat hurts and I can feel a headache coming up, but nothing is going to keep me from meeting Dylan tonight, certainly not a little head cold. Julia March 21, 2020: Dear Diary, I know it’s been a while since my last entry, but I did suggest to Leah that she give the phone a rest and keep a diary instead to


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write down her feelings; I guess it would be only fair for me to follow that advice myself. But how do I write down something that there are not enough words for? Sorrow, fear, hopelessness? They don’t even begin to cover it. I know I will have to do it eventually, for the sake of my sanity. But not now, not yet. I just can’t sum up the courage to write it down just yet. That would make it all too real. I will no longer be able to deny the truth once the words escape my pen and the ink dries on the paper. I’m sorry, I just can’t. I’m not ready to face that truth. March 25, 2020: Dear Diary, I can’t keep all of this to myself any longer.


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I feel like my head is going to explode. I have to get it out, but I don’t know where to start. Maybe I should write a letter to Leah explaining it all to her. I don’t think I’ll be able to summon up the words if I try to tell her personally, but if I write it down and let her read it privately, it will give us both time to process it all. Dear Leah, Isn’t it ironic; I’m always telling you that you can always come to me; for anything. Now it’s my turn to tell you something and I can’t do it. I’ve tried numerous times, but it was never the right moment. But I can’t put it off any longer. It’s time for me to tell you the truth.


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Please know that above all, I love you more than anything in this world and that I kept all of this a secret for so long to protect you. I may have made many mistakes in my life, but you are the best thing that ever happened to me and I hope you can find it in your heart to understand and forgive me for lying to you all these years. I don’t know where to start, but I guess the beginning is as good a place as any. You would never believe it, but I was young and reckless once. I had a one-night stand the day I graduated college. The next day, we exchanged phone numbers and made vague promises to stay in touch, but we both knew we wouldn’t. I returned to Curaçao and happily started


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working at my new job, but after a few weeks I started getting dizzy spells. I thought it was the pressure of my new responsibilities but then I also realized I had missed my period…twice. Yes Leah; you are the product of that night all those years ago. I lied to you because I didn’t want you to grow up thinking that you had been abandoned by your father. He didn’t abandon you; I really need you to understand that. If anything, it was my fault. I made the decision to raise you on my own. Frans (That’s his name) didn’t even know about the pregnancy at first, but after much thought, I decided to tell him. I didn’t expect or want anything from him, but I thought he had the right to know that he had fathered a child.


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He took the news far better than I had expected and asked me if I wanted to move back to Holland, so that he could help me with raising you. But my life was here in Curaรงao just as his was in Amsterdam. He respected my decision and promised to support me in any way he could. And he kept his promise, sending me a monthly wire as well as setting up a trust fund for you. A few months ago, he texted me out of the blue and told me that he was coming to the island with his wife in March and that he wanted to meet you. I was shocked at first and had mixed feelings about it, but ultimately, I decided that you were old enough to finally know the truth. So,


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I decided to just let the chips fall where they may and take it from there. The months flew by and before long it was March and he called me to confirm that he would be arriving on the 8th and would be staying for six weeks. I asked him to meet with me first so we could discuss what we were going to tell you; I wanted us to be on the same page and present a united front. We agreed to meet a few days after his arrival. Obviously, I didn’t want him to come to the house, so we met at a restaurant. He walked in and engulfed me in a warm embrace. It felt good to talk to him in person and tell him about you and we both thought that it was indeed time to tell you the truth. I was realistic enough to know that this could


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backfire, but I had high hopes that it would all work out somehow. We agreed that he would call me to set up a date for all of us to finally meet; including his wife. I gave him a big hug before we parted and told him I was nervous about the upcoming meeting but that I was also looking forward to it. I remember clearly how he held my face between his warm hands, kissed both my cheeks tenderly and said; “It will all be alright, you’ll see.” I’m telling you all this because it all wasn’t alright. Your father didn’t call me the next day, or the day after that. By the third day I started texting him, but he didn’t reply to any of my texts. I couldn’t understand what had happened. It made no sense to


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me. I couldn’t imagine that he would go through all the trouble of flying thousands of miles to finally meet you, only to bail out at the last minute. I didn’t know what to do. A week went by and just as I had all but given up hope, my phone beeped…a text message from your father. And now comes the hardest part. I’ve thought long and hard about the best way to tell you this part, but I also know that it is going to break your heart no matter how I say it. The text was not from your father, but from his wife and this is what it said: “Hello Julia, I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m going to go right out and say


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it. Hopefully, you can find a better way to break the news to Leah. This is Rebecca, Frans’ wife. I’m sorry to have to inform you that Frans passed away yesterday. It all happened so fast and everything has been so crazy here since Frans got sick last week, that I never even thought about checking his phone, or I would’ve texted you sooner. It breaks my heart to think that he never got to see Leah. It was all he could talk about since we arrived here. He was so excited that he was finally going to meet his daughter. Please tell her that she’s always held a special place in Frans’ heart and that I’m sorry she never got to see what a wonderful man her father was. I wish you both well. Regards, Rebecca”


TAMARA NEUMAN

So…now you know… This is the secret I’ve been carrying with me, not only for the past week but for your entire life. This is why I’ve been so frantic. Ever since receiving the message, I’ve had to set my feelings aside and switch to survival mode. As much as it hurt me to think that you would never get to meet your father, my priority was to keep you safe. How could I ever live with myself if something happened to you? Maybe now you can understand all the lying and my ‘paranoia’ as you constantly call my behavior. What else was I supposed to do? I was afraid to tell anyone and I figured that if I didn’t get sick, I wouldn’t have to. That’s why I’ve been constantly checking myself for symptoms and keeping


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my distance from you as much as possible; doing everything I can to make sure I don’t transmit the disease to you; if I have it. Leah, I truly am sorry about all of this. I never wanted to hurt you. I love you more than anything in this world. I hope that one day you’ll forgive me. I did all of this to protect you, and Dylan too. I know that you think I don’t ‘get’ you, but I do. I know you love Dylan and I also remember that he has asthma. That’s why I’ve been making it impossible for the two of you to come into contact with each other; I’ve been trying to protect him as well. At least there is a silver lining to all of this because it looks like neither of us


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got the virus. I know you probably won’t want to talk to me after reading this letter, but I think it’s important for you talk to someone. So, how about you give Dylan a call and arrange a meeting with him? I will take you myself (if you want me to). Love you always, Mom


MARIANA J. PEREIRA S. SHOCKING CONTRAST

The young woman began panicking when she felt out of breath. She couldn’t find enough oxygen to deal with the news. Her boyfriend was being taken to the hospital after a car accident. On the other hand, a friend of his had a sudden rise in his temperature. He felt the burning in his body just as if he had a fever, a fever due to anger. He was being fired without sufficient explanation. However; his father was suffering from terrible throat pain after a nonsense discussion with his ex-wife. Definitely; the long talk was not worth it


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in this case. They ended up yelling and fighting anyways. Although the real fight was being fought for the mother in the hospital. She collapsed on a chair by having all the symptoms at the same time; besides, the anxiety while waiting and praying for her son to be alright after the grave car accident. The hours of the day passed slowly and the tension was sharpened. But at the end of the night, all the paths converged in the same room by the need for a warm and faithful hug. So they gave in among open arms and waited for the stress to calm down. After a few minutes, the lungs were filled


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with oxygen, the bodies released all the heat, the throats were clean, and the anxiety relieved. Indeed; there is neither symptom nor disease that can defeat the power of hope inside a pray and a hug. And thus, I keep constantly wondering why governments are still forcing us to live this ‘‘new reality’’ of being isolated? Because we have been in quarantine for months, and honestly; the curve did not flatten thanks to social distancing. It did when the truth about the disease was said out loud, and the right treatment that once was suspicious and conveniently hidden finally appeared on the news. Therefore; the problem has never been


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the virus but the real sick people who created it along with this planned pandemic. People sick of power who want humanity to fear, fear from each other, and of the strength of a hug. But if the world is so overpopulated, isn’t it easier that we all learn how to properly care and treat our home? What’s the point of this vile lie? I wrote the story in my little notebook with a bitter disappointment. Then I raised my sight and observed the wonderful contrast of colors in the vast ocean in front of my eyes. I was finally outside after two months confined at home but I was still out of inspiration.


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And yet, Nature never looked so beautiful. The air never felt so fresh. My heart melted with the view and so my mind understood the shocking contrast. The real shocking contrast that we were too used to live: People with two or more houses ignoring those without a shelter Rich people fighting against those who barely have a little room to rent and some food to survive Daily complaining instead of thanking because we are healthy and alive Caring only about names and appearances And even, giving for granted the things we have missed the most during this quarantine.


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Indeed, we are the problem here; I reasoned. Perhaps, we deserved to go through this. So maybe, just maybe, we could learn how to be a bit more human. Because if God allowed this to happen, it means that we have an important lesson to overcome. Because if we used to feel so unbeatable making plans for the future as if we had it for granted; Why do we fear to live now by a thing that we cannot even see? What’s the point of living? If we can’t be free. Free of giving a hug and deciding where to go. Or do you want me to believe today that


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we have been living wrong all this time? No, a hug is not the enemy. Yes, fear only helps them to control our minds. So it is up to you to decide if you want to fear or breathe outside where the real-life begins and should always be. I stopped the ideas in my head and closed the notebook with nothing but the truth. Perhaps; it is not the kind of story I enjoy to write but lately, things have changed around. Like the incredible blue of the ocean that surprised me as never before. I had no words to describe its transparency and crystal purity. I can only say that I never felt so alive and calm.


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In fact; life can be upside down today but we might be surprised tomorrow. Not everything has been as bad as the news announce; Nature has its oxygen back and the Sun still heats us. We have opened our eyes to appreciate the truth and we are willing to make the best from this new opportunity. We have learned to love each other even from miles apart and show gratitude to the real warriors that have saved our lives. Thus now, it is our duty to discern among all the contrasts and differences presented in this shocking global pandemic To create the beautiful change we all desire to live.


ALEXINE HOLLANDER VOICES IN THE NIGHT

A sharp ear-shattering noise pierces the night. Lana jerks up, almost falling out of bed. “Not again!” Lana exclaims, “Aghhh! It’s like the third time this week. Don’t these people ever sleep?! Just when I’m starting to get the hang of sleeping at a decent hour instead of dragging my ass to bed at 4 in the morning after working an exhausting nightshift.” The yelling keeps getting louder and louder. “Well I guess ‘the Yellers’ aren’t going to let me get any sleep tonight either. Seriously, this is even more draining than working at the bar restaurant. At least there I was constantly busy either cooking, cleaning, or prepping for my next shift. Being rudely awoken


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from a deep and peaceful sleep and not being able to fall back asleep really fucks with a person’s head.” Frustrated, she yanks the bedsheets off her, jumps out of bed and stomps over to her bedroom window where she slows her movements to carefully peek through the blinds to see what all the fuss and racket is about this time. Her bedroom window happens to face the neighbor’s bedroom directly, giving her front row access to what has become an almost nightly occurrence; yelling at all hours of the night, hence her new nickname for them. Although to be honest, it’s the husband who does all the yelling. The wife mostly just cowers in a corner with her head down, not uttering a


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word. Tonight, is no different. Mr. Yeller is again doing what he’s been doing for the past week since the lock-down, which is just plain YELLING at his wife. Lana couldn’t help but feel bad for the wife, she didn’t deserve to be yelled at like that almost every night, nobody does. Lana shakes her head in frustration and starts pacing in her tiny bedroom while she continues talking to herself. “I would have never figured this couple for the yelling kind. I guess working night shifts has more advantages than I thought. Damn this stupid COVID lockdown! I mean seriously, I’ve been greeting these people every time I run into them since they moved in a few months ago and they are always super polite and seem like a happy couple. Although come to think


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of it, it is again Mr. Yeller who does the greeting. His wife seems to avoid even making eye contact and automatically slips behind her husband’s bulky frame every time our paths cross. The most I’ve gotten out of her is a semi-smile or an almost unnoticeable nod. Maybe she thinks her husband is flirting with me. Eeeuw, I hope not! God only knows what else that poor woman has to endure from that brute on a daily basis.” Lana walks back to bed to at least try to get some sleep. She grabs her phone from the nightstand to look at the time. “It’s twofreaking-AM man! Who on earth even has the energy to be yelling at this un-Godly hour unless they are out having a drink and


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a bite at my restaurant!” She complains in a half yell, half whisper, a bit afraid that ‘the Yellers’ can hear her just as clearly as she can hear them. Suddenly Lana’s thoughts are interrupted by another loud bang, she hurries back to the window to take another peek and to her surprise she sees Mr. Yeller shove his wife against the wall. Lana can’t believe her eyes. Did he seriously just shove her? It’s bad enough that he screams at her at all hours of the night, but shoving her? That’s taking it too far. ‘What a jerk!” she mouths softly. She turns her back to the window; it somehow feels wrong to be intruding in their personal life. “It’s not your problem Lana, just walk away.” She tells herself and forces herself to get back in bed. Pulling the covers up to her ears to


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try and muffle any new noises, she starts counting backward from a hundred to calm down; before even reaching eighty, Lana is sound asleep again. The following morning, she wakes up to the sound of the neighbor’s lawn mower whirring somewhere in their yard. Just like every day since the start of the quarantine, Lana gets out of bed and makes her morning cup of coffee, but this time she holds off on going outside to check her mail to avoid running into ‘The Yellers’. She sometimes chats with Mr. Yeller, (while maintaining the 2-meter social distance of course) for a few minutes before heading back inside. But this morning, she was dreading running into him; she knew she wouldn’t be able


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to look him in the eye without the drama she witnessed last night popping up in her head. Lana wonders how a guy that seemed to be so friendly during the day, could treat a woman so badly at night. When the noise of the lawnmower dies down, Lana slowly counts to ten and then heads outside, confident that Mr. Yeller must have gone back inside. “Good morning neighbor”, Mr. Yeller shouts out of nowhere, startling her. “Another beautiful day in lockdown, isn’t it?” He asks. “Oh-uhm yeah, really sunny”, Lana stammers with an awkward semismile. “So, what are your plans for today, besides staying indoors?” Mr. Yeller jokes. “Not much, probably going to work on some new recipes. Sharpen up my cooking skills”, Lana mumbles back, keeping her


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eyes focused on his top shirt button to avoid eye contact. “Well, if you want to take a break from all the pots, pans and measuring cups and want to relax a little bit, we have a pool in the backyard. You can come over for a swim anytime you want, you’re always welcome. We wouldn’t want you to get any hotter with this weather!”, Mr. Yeller adds with a smile. Lana gives him a huge fake smile, while silently thinking what a creep this guy is for openly flirting with her while his wife is only a few feet away, maybe even listening in on their conversation. The guy really didn’t seem to notice or care that he was being a perv. “I appreciate the offer, but I should head back inside, social distance and all


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that you know? I’ll see you guys around!” Lana says hurriedly while backing away towards her front door. “Yes of course, you have a great day and remember to stay safe young lady”, he says with a creepy smile then he turns back to the lawnmower that had been sitting there silently watching their exchange and pushes the start button to rev it back to life. The neighbor starts whistling and continues mowing his lawn. Lana does a quick half-turn and rushes back inside. A few days later, Lana is ready to enjoy a late dinner, to test out a new recipe she created; oven-baked lemon chicken thighs with roasted rosemary potatoes and a homemade balsamic vinaigrette house


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salad. She gets totally into the vibe and sets the table as if she were at her restaurant, serving her best customer the special of the day. She pours herself a generous glass of chardonnay and sits down to eat. The first bite is delicious, but Lana still can’t truly enjoy the mixture of flavors hitting her palate. She gently puts her fork back down and stares at the artfully decorated plate; the chicken and potatoes placed just so, to make it pleasing to the eye. Sighing, she reaches past her wine glass and grabs the bottle instead, taking a big gulp. She misses her work so much; that restaurant is her whole life. Being in this lockdown has been hard on her. She realizes it’s necessary for the wellbeing of the entire community, but the restaurant is also her


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livelihood. What if this lock-down lasts for months? Will the restaurant close down? What will she do then? All she knows is being a chef. What if the entire restaurant industry just ceases to exist because of COVID-19? Lana pushes away her plate, her appetite long gone, and takes another big gulp from the bottle. Suddenly, the yelling starts again next door. “Starting early tonight I see,” Lana says, taking another big sip of the wine. She has become so familiar with Mr. Yeller’s string of insults that she can almost sing along to his vile chorus: useless, stupid, dumb bitch. “Well, there goes another quiet evening in lock-down.” She grabs her plate with her free hand, tosses the contents in the


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kitchen’s wastebasket and goes back for the wineglass. With the bottle in one hand and the glass in the other, she heads to her bedroom for another sleepless night of ‘The Yeller’s in concert’. The next morning, the phone rings endlessly before Lana hears it in her halfsleep. She gropes for it blindly and presses all the buttons at random. “Hey Lana, did you hear the great news? We are allowed to start operating again! Under strict social distancing rules of course, but we can start serving food again! Is my Rockstar ready to don her chef’s hat and get back in the kitchen?” her boss rattles on without taking a breath. It takes Lana a few seconds to understand what he’s saying before the


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good news finally registers. She jumps out of bed, accidentally pulls the phone cord from the socket and almost trips over it. “OMG! Yes, yes, more than anything!” Lana starts jumping for joy, raising the phone victoriously like a trophy in one hand while swinging the cord like a lasso in her other hand. She suddenly remembers that her boss is still on the line and quickly puts the phone back to her ear. “Awesome, I knew you would be!”, her boss is saying. “So, listen, try to come up with a few concepts for me by tomorrow afternoon and we will go over your ideas. Nothing too complicated. Think of simple, tasty meals that won’t get all mushy before they are delivered. Does that sound like a plan to you?” her boss asks. “Yes, I can do that, no problem!”,


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Lana answers without hesitation. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with Lana, dazzle me!”, her boss says before hanging up. Idea’s start popping up left and right in Lana’s head before she even disconnects the call. She quickly grabs a pen and her notebook from her nightstand and starts scribbling away. Hours later, Lana is in the kitchen experimenting with a few concepts to impress her boss. She’s determined to get back into the restaurant and show what she can do. Suddenly the neighbor’s yelling and screaming starts up again. Lana tries to block it out and focus on what she’s doing but it’s just so damn loud, she can’t concentrate. She desperately throws the


ALEXINE HOLLANDER

measuring cup in the kitchen sink where it shatters into a billion pieces. “SCREW THIS! I can’t take it anymore!” It’s her turn to scream and for the first time, she doesn’t care whether or not the neighbors hear her. “Why did you get married in the first place if you are going to be at each other’s throats EVERY GODDAMN NIGHT! AAAGRRRRR!!”. With the stress and tension of the last few days building up, Lana grabs her sneakers laying by the door, yanks them on and, without giving the approaching curfew any thought, she walks out the door. She no longer cared about breaking the rules and not making it back home before curfew. She didn’t even care about the possibility of getting caught and being fined. She just needs


ALEXINE HOLLANDER

some air and more importantly, she needs to get away from those psychos living next door. After walking around the neighborhood for an hour or two, she feels calm enough to return home. Just as she’s reaching her house, she hears another ear-piercing scream, but this time, it wasn’t Mr. Yeller screaming, it was his wife. “Michael, don’t, please!” Suddenly Lana sees her neighbor running out the front door, but she doesn’t make it too far before Mr. Yeller, apparently called Michael as she just found out, catches up to her, shoves her down, then pulls her back up by the hair and drags her back inside. “Please stop Michael, don’t do this, I’m sorry, I’m sorryyyy” the


ALEXINE HOLLANDER

wife screams and pleads trying to regain her footing while holding on to the hand pulling her hair. Lana stands there, frozen, not believing her eyes as the door slams shut behind ‘The Yellers’. Then she snaps out of it. She couldn’t just stand there and do nothing. She runs to the door, turns the knob and gives it a tentative push…the door is unlocked and gently swings open. They are no longer in the entryway, so Lana follows the screams through the living room where she grabs the first heavy object she can find, just in case she needs to defend herself; an ornate book-holder on a shelf. The screams take her deeper into the house, down the hallway all the way to the last bedroom on her right. She’s


ALEXINE HOLLANDER

so scared her legs can barely function, she stops halfway through the hallway. “Lana you don’t have to do this, you can just go back home and call the cops, this isn’t your fight”, she whispers to herself. Against her better judgement, she continues down the hall towards what is probably ‘The Yellers’’ bedroom. The door is wide open, and Lana carefully slips inside. They are both on the bed. Mr. Yeller is on top of his wife with his hands are around her neck, strangling her. He continues screaming at her while her eyes start to bulge at the increased pressure on her throat. “I’m going to kill you, I’m going to fucking kill you, you are worthless. You don’t deserve me; you don’t deserve to li-”


ALEXINE HOLLANDER

Mr. Yeller’s body thuds to the floor, the back of his head bleeding profusely from a gaping wound. Lana drops the book holder and sinks to her knees. She doesn’t cry, she doesn’t scream, she doesn’t move. The shock of what she has done paralyzes her body completely. Lana doesn’t register the wife getting up, still coughing and struggling to breathe or her walking over to the nightstand and grabbing her phone. But somehow the wife’s sobbing words do make their way to her fogged-up brain. “Hello? Hello? 911? Please, we need help! My husband and I were just attacked by a masked intruder. OH MY GOD! Please help us! There is so much blood! He hit my husband over the head. Oh God, I don’t think he’s breathing, please help!” Lana is


ALEXINE HOLLANDER

still not able to move. The wife walks over to her, gently takes her hand and pulls her up. She grabs the book holder from the floor, carefully wipes Lana’s prints off of it with her shirttail and drops it back on the floor. She then looks at Lana with gratitude in her eyes, gives her a reassuring nod and carefully pushes her out the door. Lana walks back home in a daze, takes a long hot shower and climbs into bed, falling immediately into a deep voiceless slumber.


ARIEL ROBINSON CHAOS

There’s beauty in chaos, beauty in death, Beauty in fear, love and regret. Today we scream, we run and fret but that which should be shall be, it’s written in the stars. No matter how hard you run, no matter how far you go, when it’s your time to die then you just know. One day we’ll look back, look back at this moment in time, we’ll remember the destruction, the mass loss of lives, and hopefully we’ll smile behind the tears we cry, hopefully we’ll find the good in the bad,


ARIEL ROBINSON

the order in chaos and the love beneath the hate and anxiety. Don’t see this time as the apocalypse but the rebirth of society, Time to reflect on sexism, abuse and racism. Our Earth deserves a fresh start, let’s find peace in this beautiful time of chaos.


ILSE SCHOOBAAR SITUASHON PENOSO KU CORONA VIRUS

Beatriz ta sinta den su balkon ta skirbi den su diario. Semper e ta hasi esei ora tin algu ku ta molestié. Ya solo ta haltu na shelu pero Beatriz ta skirbi ketu. E no a bebe ni un tiki kòfi ainda pa kenta su stoma. Tur Beatriz su pensamentunan e ta pone riba papel: E muchanan na Hulanda, Dios sa kon ta ku nan. Nan ta bèl tur siman si, pero tòg mi ta kòrda nan. Mi no por bisa nan kiko ta pasa ku Ramon, nan tata. Corona Virus a brua su kabes kompleto! Un situashon masha penoso tin na kas aworakí. Ramon a bira un kos ku no ta sirbi. Di e hòmber alegre, servisial i kariñoso, el a bira un ansiano yen di miedu ku ta skucha radio henter dia òf wak televishon. Ata


ILSE SCHOOBAAR

korant esei e no ta kumpra mes, p’e no pega ku virus. Ta ken por, eh? Mi ta manera mi so den kas, sin niun hende pa papia kuné. Mi boka ta seku seku di tantu keda ketu. Ami kièr sa ku Ramon ta birando loko. Di baina e ta kome, ta dualu rònt den kas manera spiritu anto blo wak mi ku wowo djabou manera ta ami a trese e malditu virus ei Kòrsou. Mi ta kòrda kon kontentu nos tur dos tabata ora ku muchanan a bai studia afó i ku nos por a sali manera nos tabata ke: biaha, bai fiesta, komedia, bai kome. Awor Ramon no ke papia ku niun hende, ni ku mi. Anto su dòkter di kas e no ke ni tende su nòmber. Ni den nos kama matrimonial e no ta drumi mas. El a bai drumi den e kamber te patras. Esun ku su mes baño i wc. Promé mi no por a


ILSE SCHOOBAAR

kere, e di dos anochi ku el a bai drumi den otro kamber m’a sali mardugá pushi pushi pa mi bai puntr’e ku ta bon su kabes no ta. Lugá ki ora! E mièrdè a sera e porta na yabi! Awor mi ta komprondé nifikashon di e palabranan: violensia doméstiko, pasobra e rabia ku m’a sinti e momentu ei a dunami masha gana di batí e porta di kamber kibra ku un martin, pa mi drenta sagudí Ramon wak si e ta bin bei. Despues mi di: nò yu, na mi kama di behes mi no ke niun problema ku polis pa motibu di niun hende. Bo ke hunga loko, ta bo asuntu. Fo’ i dje dia ei ta manera ta mi so ta den kas. Mi ta kushiná tur dia si. Awo mi ke men, no, si bo tin tantu miedu di malesa, dikon bo no ta keda sin kome mi kuminda anto. Ayera m’a skonde tras di kortina den kushina pa


ILSE SCHOOBAAR

mi mir’ é saka su kuminda. El a kue un tayó fo’i den kashi, un tayó limpi limpi. El a laba e tayó bolbe lab’é ku awa, habon i clorox. Despues el a ranka mas ku sinku pida papel di kushina pa seka e tayó. Até awor ta laba e kuchara di saka kuminda meskos. Ora m’a kere ku ta kla, el a saka un vergrootglas fo’i su saku di karson, habri mi wea di kolo stobá ta peilu aden. Mi ta kere ta p’e wak si e no ta mira niun virus. Den mi mes m’a pensa: Ata kaka ‘kí, awor si e hòmber akí a flep mes mes. Promé el a saka djis un krenchi asina di aros pone den e tayó. Nèt el a kuminsá ta piki den e wea di kolo, ku mi nanishi a kuminsá ta kishikí ku Dios di ta basta. Ni maske kuantu m’a wanta mi rosea aden, kinipí mi wowonan sera, trose mi pianan den otro manera


ILSE SCHOOBAAR

ora bo mester bai wc ku hopi urgensia, nada no a yuda. E nister di demoño a sali manera un kayon den tempu di guera anto su ècho a keda ta ronka pió ku katapila. Mira’kí, Ramon a bula laga tayó, kuchara ku vergrootglas kai den mi wea di kuminda. Despues el a saka un kareda manera un vupeilu kore drenta e kamber patras dal e porta sera. Atámi awor pará ta pensa: Tin un number di telefon tambe pa bèl ora tin hende loko den kas? Of ta 917 mes?


JURADO Jury


DIANA LEBACS JURY AND WRITER

Schrijnend contrast In het diepste donker dieper dan de bodem van mijn ziel voorbij het binnenste van de aarde verder dan het zwarte gat in de kosmos, ontmoeten wij elkaar vluchtigen toch niet vaag Iel en tastbaar toch. Als de werkelijkheid zo onwerkelijk treffen aantrekking en afstoting elkaar eerder warm dan kil en hard verwachtingsvol en rauw verteerd door smart.


DIANA LEBACS

Kontraste kandente Den e sukú di mas sukú profundo te den bòm di mi alma te den entraña di mi tera i e buraku stabachi den universo, nos ta topa otro di paso i tòg no pasahero lesma ma tòg tangibel. Den e realidat ireal atrakshon i repulsion ta ultrahá otro mas tantu tierno ku friu i duru ku un speransa den kandela di pena.


HILDA DE WINDT AYOUBI JURY AND WRITER

Ni Tiempo ni Distancia Miro la luna, cómo brilla Su mirada dirigida hacia mí La luna me mira a mí, cómo brillo Mi mirada dirigida hacia ella Y pienso en ti,


HILDA DE WINDT AYOUBI

que en este momento quizás estés durmiendo Pues la hora entre nuestros dos continentes es muy diferente... Y me doy cuenta de que ya no hay avión ni embarcación que me lleve mas allá de las fronteras Que Covid-19 ha causado una enfermedad, ha creado la distancia social Que por más que quiera


HILDA DE WINDT AYOUBI

la distancia entre los dos no podría romper en piezas ¡Que el mundo está estancado! Miro la luna, cómo brilla La luna me mira a mí, cómo brillo La distancia y el Tiempo son energías, me explica El pensamiento


HILDA DE WINDT AYOUBI

y el sentimiento pueden atravesar miles de millas El jazmín puede esparcir su fragancia hasta la cima del cerro hasta llegar al cielo... Traducción de Hilda de Windt Ayoubi de su poema Ni Tempu ni Distansia Por dos noches seguidas llevo mirando la energía de la luna, la luz resplandeciente que irradia. Y me doy cuenta de que hay mucha gente que por tiempo indefinido no voy a poder ver.


RALPH WINEDT JURY AND WINNER YOUNG WRITERS NIGHT CURACAO 2019

E Marcha Nos ta Marcha p`e ser humano. For di kreashon, kaminda tabata marká pa destino; for di prinsipio a determiná próposito. Nos ta Marcha p`e ser humano. No laga flohera tenebo wantá No anunsiá ku mester tin kambio radikal riba media sosial. Si bo n’ t’ei tuma parti na kambio integra.* Nos ta Marcha p`e ser humano. Guli bo orguyo manda abou


RALPH WINEDT

i laga responsabilidat fudu bo organonan. Laga nos uni manera un generashon eskohí Dilanti di nos, un paisahe yen di seru intimidante, yen di reto desafiante. Pero nos ta Marcha p`e ser Humano. Kambio berdadero no ta bin di djis profilá pa nos ego haña satisfakshon. Fama no ta nos deseo; progreso ta e yabi pa alkansá e soño. No desmayá


RALPH WINEDT

ni maske kon pisá e barí di keho ta. Ya nos no ta futuro di mayan; nos t`esnan ku zelo pa pone alma na obra I mira nos isla transformá. No laga nan deskurashá bo pa bo edat. Sino sea un ehèmpel den bo andá. Tuma desishon ku sin palabra ta ekspresá prinsipio. I kaminda ku bo ta, no ta importá den kua ofisina, kua profeshon òf na kua pais.


RALPH WINEDT

Abo tin influensia pa drenta den e sentro i inisiá un temblor, ku ta basha muruyanan, ku nan a lanta pa kibra union. Abo tin e posibilidat di ta un revolushonario den e amor ku bo ta duna. Den e manera ku bo ta stima. Laga nan komprendé ku nos dedikashon ta pasa frontera, pasobra hamber pa transformashon no ta drumi. Ta e momento oportuno, ku kurason dispuesto, pa trese konsepto inovativo.


RALPH WINEDT

Nos ta Marcha p`e ser humano. Does this sounds like a call to revolution? Yes, I am calling for the execution! The killing of the very idea that ‘others will do it’. Because we are chosen for a time like this. Don’t let your life go by and then say: “I wish I did this” We have the power to innovate a new equation. We must keep building our nation. Lead the path to a prosperous civilization.


RALPH WINED

We cut through streams of ignorance, not preoccupied with superficial bliss. Let our commitment soar with the wind. Be a Martin Luther King and carve a trail to manifest a human dream. We march on for humanity. We don’t want to just sing songs of remembrance. Oh Lord, give us the passion to take action! Nos ta Marcha p`e ser humano.


JULIAN TUAST JURY AND WINNER YOUNG WRITERS NIGHT CURACAO 2019

Melencholy Kaleidoscope The simulation finally broke 2020 has shown That sometimes life takes you by the throat And hangs you by a rope • I’m not the type to rock the boat But it’s hard to drown when hope keeps you a float So, I apologize for the words that I spoke Even though I’ve asked for forgiveness in the things that I wrote • I know, the world has tunnel vision but I have a melancholy kaleidoscope


JULIAN TUAST

To give me guidance and give me hope Now I wonder How do we shorten the distance between are lips? When will we be able to cross our fingers together and make a unified fist? • But in the midst Of all this mist There is a moment of bliss A sweet comfort in the abyss • Yet, after all of this Even though 2020 is amiss I look forward to her neon kiss.


Dit is een gratis uitgave van All booked up en Wiene Uitgevers Het Online Writers Platform is een non profit initiatief om (startende) schrijvers en makers tijdens de Coronatijd een podium te bieden om hun werk te etaleren. Het initiatief is genomen door Mishane Arrendell en thrillerschrijver WIENE. In de vorm van een schrijfwedstrijd is het werk van 20 personen door een vakjury geselecteerd en gebundeld. Het Online Writers Platform heeft geen enkele commerciĂŤle doelstelling en is puur charitatief.

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