The 2020 issue of The Repeater, Arts and Literary Magazine

Editor’s Note Nature has been documented by artists and authors since the beginning of human civilization, and it continues to inspire today’s creators. Modern lifestyles have drawn the human race away from our first home to schedules absorbed by now necessary technologies, but we still feel the pull towards untouched spaces. We prompted our imaginative students to conceptualize these opposing, or, interweaving ideas for the Repeater’s theme for the 2019-2020 year, The Natural vs.

Digital World. As the natural world continues to change with human presence, and as our lives are affected by evolving innovations, we believe this relationship is more significant than ever.

Our students weren’t the only ones who put significant time and effort into this magazine. We are thankful for our moderator: Mrs. Rachelle Garbarine, as well as the many adults who took time out of their day to advise and help us. We would especially like to thank Mr. Michael Rogosich, Mrs. Nancy Barkan, Mr. Tripp Reade, Ms. Tonya Holmes, Mrs. Lesley Coe, Mrs. Terri Ingraham, and Mr. Chuck Underwood for all of their assistance with this magazine. We would also like to give a special thanks to our staff who despite the Coronavirus pandemic stood with us and helped us complete this magazine during this tough time. We were very blessed to be a part of a much larger whole, and thankful for all the support on the journey.

- CO-EDITORS ALEXABELLE SCHICK AND ARIANE LEMAIRE

Colophon The Repeater, Volume 23, was produced by The Repeater Staff at Cardinal Gibbons High School in Raleigh, NC. The book contains 42 pages, plus covers, and was created using Adobe InDesign.

Garamond in bold was used for titles in 23 point type, and as body text in 12 point type. Tahoma was used in 12 point type for artists and authors’ names. Our cover art was designed by Katie Gbruoski. A digital edit of the cover and addditional illustrations were created by co-editor Ariane Lemaire. The book was printed by Metro Productions.

The Repeater Staff List Ariane Lemaire Alexabelle Schick Michael Austin Alex Kilani Cate McKenna Danielle Brief-McGurrin

Table of Contents Perspective of a Student 1 The Stresses of Work - Garett Hozza 2 The Diablo Canyon Rises With the Sun - Anna Palmtag 3 Thoughts on Starry Night - Mallory Kemple 4 Mother Nature - Kaitlyn Ostien 5 What Will Your Legacy Be? - Garett Hozza 6 Rain’s Rustle - Kaitlyn Neuman 7 Wood Textured Slab Construction - Remy Schneider 8 New and Old - Cate McKenna 9 Deconstruction of the Human Brain.... - Anna Palmtag 10 An Aviator of Consequence - Ariane Lemaire 11 Maybe - Mallory Kemple 12 Lighting the Way-Alexabelle Schick 13 Haikus 15-17 Modular Cactus - Lauren Miller 18 Flowers on the Apple - Michael Austin 19-20 Branch With Barnacles - Kira Yost;The Drifter - Eden Atwater 21 The Octopus - Margaret Devitt; Stansstad - Stacy Andrews 22 Iron Grazing - Alexabelle Schick 24 Goose - Alex Henson 25 Endangered Art - Marcelo Fernandez 26 Untitled - Gabby Hart 27 Famous Last Words - Anna Palmtag 28 Overgrown - Michelle Escobar 29 Chaos and Peace - Sydney Kwiatek 30 Finch’s Wings - Margaret Devitt 31-35 Everlasting - Ariane Lemaire 36 Home - Liz Anderson 37 Vacant Lungs - Grace Mullahy 38 Untitled - Abi Grace 39 Walking the Streets - Johnathon Martinez 40-42 A Family’s Bond - Kaitlyn Neuman 43 Fräkmüntegg - Stacy Andrews 44

1 - the repeater

From the Perspective of a Student Nicole Martaindale “There are many things that we must realize about our reality. We are always using our tech and sometimes, we forget to appreciate the beautiful nature around us.”

“Even though they (her parents) didn’t have these things, they still had ways to have fun.”

“So I challenge you to take at least one day from your weekend and spend it without using your tech and to spend it outside. Or just do something that doesn’t involve technology. There are so many possibilities when it comes to activities that don’t involve technology.”

GARETT HOZZA

The Stresses of Work

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The Diablo Canyon Rises With The Sun ANNA PALMTAG

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Thoughts on Starry Night MALLORY KEMPLE

Twelve stars, most goldenrod that glimmer.

One is dimmer than the rest.

We call this one “Moon.”

Moon is lemon yellow, young, more vibrant held in a blustery and overwhelming sky.

Is it simply a hard wind or waves of an ocean?

How’d they get there?

Are the people hiding close together and in basements from a tornado?

Is it soft cacti, seaweed, or a monster’s hair?

Is this mountain for climbing?

On the ground are blank and grey barn houses.

From one springs a church steeple.

Sacred and secure, distinctive, greyer than the rest.

Could it be an angel spying on the mountain?

And the people we assume worship there, hoping for safety in the middle of the harsh air.

Their lives, however, we’re left to wonder are they families, monks, travelers?

Are they comforted, drunk on the stars while shaken by the sky?

Or does the shining yellow keep them awake, apprehensive?

Van Gogh hides the story by highlighting twelve heavy, luminous stars.

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Mother Nature KAITLYN OSTIEN

Nature is our mother, and we’re allowing her to die All of us idly standing by And no one can hear her cry We burn her valleys and poison her air None of us seem to care Technology will soon be everywhere And we all accept it unaware Nature is our mother and we’re watching her die All of us waving goodbye Yet no one seems to mind.

GARETT HOZZA

What Will Your Legacy Be?

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7 -- the the repeater repeater

Rain’s Rustle KAITLYN NEUMAN

The vibrant Autumn leaves form a grotto In the middle of the city Wafted by a subtle hint of wind Water droplets trickle off the edges Best friends since the age of 4 Sisters in perpetuity Huddled under a shared yellow umbrella Which could be lost in the myriad of foliage Puddles scattered along the path Reflecting each step From the bond they formed Never to break A dampened wooden bench Low slung but still strong With a curved iron frame Always present to provide respite The light posts line the walkway Reminiscent of the days when lit by leerie Reflecting light for the bumpy road To keep the friendship eternal

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Wood Textured Slab Construction REMY SCHNEIDER

9 -- the the repeater repeater

New and Old CATE MCKENNA

It was in utter darkness that She knew what light was. It was in extreme thirst that she knew what water was. It was in extreme pain that she knew what joy was. She thought she knew what was best for her. But in actuality, she figured out this was not so. When the new human came out, she received and accepted it’s a doctrine with joy in her heart, just like everyone else. But as time passed, she knew it was slowly taking the joy out of humanity, but it was too late.

She was born in 2036. Right after humans started to get their act together. Climate change ceased. Governments stopped their political arrangements. Wars stopped being waged. Out of all this, humans grew to have an air of superiority unlike any in the past. “If we can achieve all of this, surely we can cease the need for work!” They cried.

“Surely we can create a society of simple rest!” Humans wished for leisure, and in solving the world’s problems, they created the world’s largest problem yet: Superiority. So they created The New Human.

Programmed to follow everyone’s will. They were flesh and blood, but they were created to serve. And serve they did. They did everything for the old humans. All the chores, all the work. It was clear that humans did not run the world. But so caught up in their leisure that they didn’t see it. Work was their humanity. To be a human meant to work, and cry, and rejoice, and play. But all of that was taken away. They didn’t realize that they were no longer humans. She did. She watched them slowly turning into robots. Slowly just searching for pleasure, and not finding it, because they couldn’t find satisfaction in themselves. She watched and waited.

The revolution came not in great force, but in small strides. Old humans soon faded away, They were nothing positive or negative on society, and so their history and legacy disappeared along with them.

At that point, they had no legacy. Their pride ultimately became their undoing. She saw it all along. Then The New Humans rose from the ashes. Their workings on the earth were useful. They picked up where the old humans left off. They worked, and soon developed feelings, feelings for each other, and feelings of resentment toward their old human masters, though they never acted upon it. The New Humans soon began to build a life for themselves. Years passed.

the the repeater repeater -- 10 10 When the last old human died, there was great pomp and celebration. The New Humans had begun to reap the benefits of their captivity and were finally free. She’s name is 000000000001. She was the first New Human. She only refers to herself as She shows her humanity and to show that she has worth. As she sees her people celebrate, they look to their leader in inspiration and love. She sighs and looks to the sky in hope.

Deconstruction of the Human Brain (With Some Liberties Taken) ANNA PALMTAG

11 repeater 11 -- the repeater

An Aviator of Consequence ARIANE LEMAIRE

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Maybe

MALLORY KEMPLE Four peculiar objects found in a white walled room.

I should’ve thought before breaking in, maybe the owner has a story as profound as my own. black spy rubber duck, a yellow mask covering eyes. Maybe in the ownership of a joker, a clown, not to be taken seriously.

A circular compass-looking calendar, how to use it? Crack the mystery. Maybe worshipping false gods, predicting the end of the world.

A dragon fly eye, like a broken magnifying glass, showing revolving diamonds when you look inside.

Maybe I should take it for my nephew, Winston.

A green die with many numbers, twenty sides. who would need to roll that many possibilities?

Maybe a magician, a gambler, a fortune teller.

13 13 -- the repeater

Lighting the Way ALEXABELLE SCHICK

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15 - the repeater

Twenty Haikus Glasses make the world seem clear The beauty of the mountains Without them I couldn’t see the stars I praise the creators GLASSES BY NIKKI ALLEN Nature is a gift innovations improve lives both will make a difference ANELISE SODERBERG Tech vs. nature The birds are chirping loudly But phones drown them out ANNE, JOCELYN, AND AVA Nature is vital Technology is helping Tech will save nature EMILIA SMITH Make it through this storm A leaf no longer green falls When the tech calls us NATALIE, MAURELLE Technology is Nature will always be here Until it is gone Nature has beauty Technology has power They both are changing.

OLIVIA YOUNG

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Nature is freedom Technological power Blended by magic UNKNOWN Nature has inspired technology, we are molded by nature.

I am ready to experience technology.

CHRISTIAN VITO I watch all these videos that make me feel like I’m traveling. Thy spirit Is there while I am not.

KAVON M. Nature is monkey Technology is money We ALL love monkey MONKEY LOVE BY ANNIE AND KATE Still Nature The calm sounds of the wind rushing over the ocean blue.

The beautiful still disrupted with the painful buzz Will we ever be tranquil again UNKNOWN Trees, bees, flowers, and sights to see. Oh what we miss while we watch our screens UNKNOWN Snapshots of bright light Capturing the world’s beauty Through a camera KAITLYN RYAN-LIPPS

17 16 -- the repeater TWENTY HAIKUS CONT. Hands free, sun and sky palms full, tech devours us The world is different JULIET LARKIN It used to be fun Playing all day in the sun Phones are in control MEGAN OPPEGARD Eyes locked on the screen technology ruined world What about nature?

SOFIA KIM, IAN SONGER AND CARRIGAN MOESTA Phones ruined this world No one goes out to explore Put it down and roam.

IAN SONGER Always on our phones We used to always play outside Now we’ve become tech EMMA FARISHIAN AND MARY SELF Curvy little leaves Dancing freely in the trees Captured on my screen KAITLYN RYAN-LIPPS The bright horizon The sun rises early morn I wish it was real VIRTUAL LIGHT BY NIKKI ALLEN

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Modular Cactus LAUREN MILLER

Flowers on the Apple MICHAEL AUSTIN

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Branch With Branch WithBarnacles Barnacles KIRA KIRA YOST YOST

The Drifter Drifter DELANEY ATWOOD DELANEY ATWOOD

Every person their own shipship Every personis is their own Guided by in in thethe distance Guided bylighthouses lighthouses distance And kept their anchors And keptsafe safebyby their anchors waters In calm calmand andcomplacent complacent waters I am am aa drifter drifter Seeking harbor Seekingno nosafe safe harbor Free Free from fromanchors anchors Guided the forces of nature Guidedonly onlybyby the forces of nature I will will sail the storm sailinto into the storm Straight waters Straightinto intorough rough waters If it it only onlymeans means I can can sail shore sailaway awayfrom from shore

The Octopus Octopus

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MARGARET MARGARET DEVITT DEVITT There mustbe bea away way Looking thesky sky Looking atatthe There must forfor youyou Through two-way mirror?

Through aatwo-way mirror? to fight back.

They underestimate you A window? window?

They underestimate you and howfar far you No. and how you willwill go go to keepyour your view world Liquid glass Liquid glass to keep view of of thethe world the same;through through glass.

Water, soclear clear almost Water, so it’sit’s almost the same; thethe glass.

They Not there. there.

They won thelottery lottery You’ve neverbeen been You’ve never upup thisthis highhigh won the to havethe thechance chance In the theocean oceanbefore. before. to have to to getget three thousand dollars There mustbe besomething something more There must more up up three thousand dollars for creature deep. there there for aacreature of of thethe deep.

There are But aa sharp sharphit hitturns turns back, youyou back, There are Black inkspews spews everywhere, Black ink everywhere, Five menon onthe the boat, The glass glassno nolonger longer clear. clear.

Five men boat, (six beforeyou you dragged under).

Hunters oftencome come here Hunters often here to to (six before dragged oneone under).

Heaven?

Oh,you’ll you’ll see it soon, Find otherslike like you Find others you Heaven? Oh, see it soon, andand you you hate torun runaway, away, A snack snackfor forsome, some, hate to butbut youyou havehave to. to.

Won tothree three Five Heaven A reward rewardfor for others. others.

Won to forfor Five sixsix Heaven hate.hate. mayhave haveyour your eight beams It’s not notreally reallyyour your intention intention to to You You may eight beams of of supportnow, now, be sold soldtotosome some sushi maker. sushi maker. support thatcan canalways always change.

There mustbe bea away way There must forfor youyou But that change. to fight back.

Stansstad Stansstad

STACY ANDREWS STACY ANDREWS

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Iron Grazing ALEXABELLE SCHICK

25 23 - the repeater

Goose

ALEX HENSON

MARCELO FERNANDEZ

Endangered Art

Editor’s Note: The artist depicted animals that are endangered, critically endangered, or extinct

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27 25 - the repeater

Untitled GABBY HART

Nature was once a Flourishing, Green, Gorgeous, Space Now Technology has come, And taken its place.

Why do we do it?

No one knows why, But it’s okay We’ll just stick our faces in our phones and get on with the day.

Who needs trees anyway?

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Famous Last Words ANNA PALMTAG

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Overgrown

MICHELLE ESCOBAR

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Chaos and Peace SYDNEY KWIATEK

Chaos and peace. Light and dark. Panic and calm. Virtues, vice.

Happiness… despair…. They all messed with his head. Wired into his brain, from the beginning. Beginning, when was the beginning? He couldn’t remember. Darkness, that’s all that remains.

No, no, not darkness. Void. The Middle. Middle Ground. Middle ground, that’s what they told him. Cannot have darkness without light.

Balance, keep the balance.

He didn’t remember the last time he went to visit the other sides. This is where you must stay, they said. This is your destiny. What did destiny mean again? Words had no meaning anymore. No one to speak to, nothing spoken to him. Indifferent… indifferent. He would be the judge of it all. Judge of what? How would he know? That’s what they told him. They, who is they? The real, or the fake? The natural, or the metal? Both had their influence. Someone else said something else, though. Someone like him.

Listen to neither of them. Listen to the words you hear now, and the whispers of those before you.

He never heard anything since.

Just the words of balance.

Balance.

Keep the balance.

No matter what the sides would say.

Nothing to change, mustn’t change.

A low growl rumbled from the nothingness.

You want to change.

29 -- the the repeater repeater 31

Finch’s Wings MARGARET DEVITT

Finch hated his wings. They had kept him from having a normal childhood, highlighting him as an outcast from the very day he was born. Dark brown and golden feathers covered the wings that came out of his back. He often had to keep them folded in close to his body, since at full length they would spread out to about twice his own body length.

His room was practically bare, besides his bed and a lamp, both nailed to the ground. It was quite a dull existence. By the time he had turned twelve years old, however, he had read all of his books multiple times and had grown bored of painting.

He wasn’t allowed any technology or anything that could even possibly be a pathway to the outside world.

He didn’t even have a window, since it was too risky and someone might see him. Finch thought he would never be free of the monotony of his everyday life.

That was, until the fires began. It was the first day of the week, a fresh start for all of the people of Northbury who were running about in the bustling town square, selling and buying their wares.

The most important thing on their minds being how much they could talk the vendor’s prices down. The Ones, the people in the role of the government in Northbury, hadn’t conducted any raids recently. It was a beautiful world.

Finch had seen this world once before. When he was ten years old, his parents had gone out for the night, leaving him with a family friend who was watching over the house to make sure that Finch couldn’t leave. However, Finch had waited on the stairs for about two hours before the friend took a call in the kitchen. With a burst of speed that he had never had before, Finch sprang off the stairs and practically, although not actually, flew out the front door. It was dark, and Finch couldn’t really tell where he was going. Most likely there would be people out in town having parties, and he knew he would get in immense amounts of trouble if he was seen. Besides, he preferred to be by himself anyways. So, he moved slowly towards the distant mountains.

the repeater repeater -- 32 30 the Eventually he reached them and began to climb a steep slope. The cool air brushed through his wings as he realized that he finally had room to stretch them out. The feeling was freeing. He walked and walked until he reached a ledge overlooking the town. Lights were shining in most of the houses, and just as he had thought, there was a group of people dancing and enjoying themselves in the town square.

And in a single moment, Finch realized that he didn’t care about the risks. He went barreling down the way he had come, as fast as his legs could carry him. The sounds of laughing and music were growing closer as Finch raced towards the town. There was something in him that just wanted to be a part of something normal for once. Just as he was about to reach it, however, something hit him in the back of the head, and he fell, completely knocked unconscious. It wasn’t until he woke up in his room and his mother came in that he knew what happened. His babysitter had seen him run out and immediately called his parents, who had searched for him. Luckily for them, they had found him just before he was about to show himself.

This stunt had earned him weeks without dinner. It would obviously take more to get out of his house than just walking down the stairs and out the door. After his escape, there was always someone to watch Finch and the front door was always locked. They also had a space to put Finch in case any of the members of the Ones came to investigate, since there were rumors of a winged boy that broke out after the escape.

Apparently, an older man had been out in the woods gathering more firewood when he said he saw a ‘winged angel’ running down the mountain.

Finch honestly didn’t think there was any way he would ever get to go outside. He was sure that he would die in his room in the future or get found and killed by the Ones. Sure, he could try to fly away, but since he had never been allowed to use them, they were probably weak and wouldn’t be able to hold him up. Not to mention, he didn’t really know how to control himself. He often wondered what it would be like if he lived in a world without the Ones, but he knew that idea would never come true.

That early Sunday morning started off like any other day of the week. Finch woke up to a meal already in his room, courtesy of his mother, and ate it while he re-read one of his books. It was hard for him to focus on one thing for too long, so without even realizing it, after a while, his attention had turned from the story to gazing longingly at a painting he had made earlier that learned about the outside world from his stories.

31 - the repeater 33 - the repeater

Bright green fields stretched for miles with yellow flowers growing out of the ground as the sun shone down in golden rays. It was like Finch’s own personal window. Finch’s routine continued on in the normal way until exactly twelve thirty three. Finch’s mother always brought him lunch at exactly twelve thirty three, and it had been that way for as long as he could remember. So, when the clock on his wall struck twelve thirty four, he became confused. There were no sounds that he could hear that indicated the movement of anything alive in the house. There was, of course, always the option to open the bedroom door to see what was going on. However, if Finch’s mother was just simply waiting outside, she wouldn’t bring him food for a day or so as punishment.

When twenty or so minutes had passed, Finch decided to open up the door, as he was getting hungry.

In the air, there was the smell of something burning.

Possibly his lunch, although it didn’t seem like it was necessarily coming from the house. Finch was inwardly debating with himself whether he should open the door or not. He would most likely be punished if his mother found out, but on the other hand, if there was truly something wrong, he was curious. A few more minutes passed, and Finch was becoming restless. Something had to be wrong. Perhaps his mother was passed out in the kitchen. Or maybe someone had broken in, discovered that he was there, and arrested her. The agony of not knowing what was going on was practically too much for the boy to bear, so in a moment of weakness, he put his hand on the doorknob and threw open the door.

The hallway was eerily quiet, and once Finch maneuvered his wings in such a way that would allow him to get out of the door, he stepped out into it. Thick silence enveloped him, as well as the continuous smell of smoke, which only seemed to get stronger the farther down the steps of his house that he went. Yet, he still had no idea where it was coming from. There was no one in the kitchen. The preparations for Finch’s lunch were on the counter, but hadn’t been put together yet, and the boy’s mother was nowhere in sight. There were items strewn across the floor and a glass of water had been spilled, as if someone had left or been taken in a hurry.

Finch called out for her, once, twice, and a third time, but there was no answer. This was when, out of the corner of his eye, Finch realized that the front door of his house had been ripped off of its hinges.

He inched closer towards it, being cautious, just in case this was a test from his

the repeater - 32 the repeater - 34 mother, which he wouldn’t put past her to do. However, as he got closer to it, the smell of smoke got stronger and there was still no sign of his mother. So, in a moment of instinct, he stepped outside.

It wasn’t really what he expected. Instead of bright green grass and blue skies, there was a thick layer of gray smoke in the air. There were no open pastures, but only tall metal buildings that reached up into the sky. However, there was something else that Finch had not expected.

Everything was on fire.That was where the smoky smell was coming from, as well as the gray tint to the air. Now, Finch didn’t know much about the outside, but he was relatively sure that it wasn’t constantly on fire. Especially since it seemed like only the city was on fire, not the neighboring mountains. So, that was where Finch decided to go.

There were no people. It was strange, almost as if everyone in town had suddenly disappeared. If, of course, there had ever been any people at all. It occurred to him suddenly that perhaps his mother had been lying to him the whole time. The Ones might not even exist. It had all been a lie.

Finch walked towards the mountains, his wings stretching out slightly. It had been the first time in his life that there was enough room for him to move them, and just as he had expected, they were weak and fragile. He was perfectly fine walking, though, and it didn’t take very long for him to make his way to a trail leading upwards.

He stopped at a small ledge overlooking the city. The fires were still going strong, but from up high, the smoke was clearer and Finch could see the outlines of the buildings.

If, perhaps, he had been standing there at a different time, he would have been able to see bustling streets and a blue sky like his mother told him about.

But since he couldn’t, Finch made up his mind that he would head to a place where the grass was green. As he turned around, expecting to head farther up the trail, the boy gasped and froze in fear.

Three men with white cloaks and masks, moving without sound, (blue, black, and grey, respectively), were standing behind him. The Ones. “So, it was true,” the farthest left One said in a nasally voice. “The boy with wings is real.” “It appears he is,” the right One said. The first One began to laugh, shaking Finch to his core.

“Too bad we had to burn down the whole town just to find him,” the first said.

35 33 - the repeater “Yes, too bad,” the second said. The monotone voice he spoke with, however, seemed to scream he meant the opposite. “Although I suppose that it doesn’t really matter. There are always more people.”

“Why would you do this?” Finch could feel his hands physically shaking. “You could have just taken me. There was no reason for you to do all of this.” “We had to send a message,” the third said. “The likes of you will not be tolerated.”

Finch began to step backwards, trying to distance himself from the Ones. “There is no point in trying to escape,” the second said.

“We’ll find you, no matter where you go!”

The Ones began to come closer to Finch, pushing him further towards the edge of the cliff. There was nowhere for him to go. His only option…

“I have to try,” Finch said, digging his heels into the ground. His wings were now fully extended, giving his figure the image of an angel.

It all happened so suddenly. The third One practically launched himself towards Finch, while the other two were close behind. At the same time, the young boy threw himself backwards, right off the edge of the cliff. Finch tried to flap his wings with all of his might. For a second, it seemed to work, as he hovered over the fire. He let out a laugh and looked back at the Ones, still on the cliff. However, he should have known that it would be too good to last.

Never using his wings was already taking a toll, his entire body was sore from keeping his entire body weight in the air. He attempted to rise higher, but the wings weighed him down as he flew slowly into the fire, his agonized screams being the last thing that anyone would ever hear from him. The Ones watched from the edge, looking down as Finch’s body disappeared into the smoke. After a few minutes, they went away, confident that the boy was dead.

They ended up being right.Weeks later, the new town had been set up, with all of the remaining people that had managed to escape the fires, Finch’s mother not among them.

No one knew the cause of the fires, but assumed it was the Ones punishing them for something they had done. No one knew about the young boy with the wings, just as the Ones had wanted it to be.

And they never would.

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Everlasting ARIANE LEMAIRE

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Home

LIZ ANDERSON

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Vacant Lungs GRACE MULLAHY

The year is 3010….

My great grandpa told me a story yesterday. He started with a sentence I’d never thought would be spoken out of a human’s mouth, but it did, it slipped right through his lips. He said that back then the air used to be free, free I said! I know, I know I didn’t believe it either at first, it sounds crazy, but I just kept listening. People used to go outside, and watch birds fly. Can you imagine those creatures gliding through the space above us, but it gets better, they would live in trees!

I understand that we aren’t really supposed to talk about trees, but rumor has it, that’s where all the free oxygen came from. The next part is going to sound super crazy, but my grandpa told me he does remember one simple moment early in his life from when the earth was still bright and full of life. He went outside, with nothing on, no mask, no anything. He simply walked out and took a large gulp of raw air. Could you imagine what it tasted like? I bet it tasted fresh, I mean not that I would know what fresh is, but still. How wonderful it sounds! Ever wonder what it would have been like if technology wasn’t invented?

Never mind, it’s a childish thought, can you pass me my oxygen tank and my iWatch?

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Untitled ABI GRACE

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Walking the Streets JOHNATHON MARTINEZ

“No, no, that is the last time you…” Words seemed to escape him every time he was filled with emotion.

“Uh, no, this one is your fault. You said you would meet me at 5 o’clock sharp in the park. And when YOU didn’t show up, I left.”

“I specifically texted you 6. Look.”

“But you told me on the phone earlier that day it was 5.

You know I have put so much time into this relationship and you cannot even communicate with me properly. You know, that’s it. I’m done. I’m out, I’M OUT!” He remembered how harshly she slammed the door of his apartment, making the whole room shake as he was browsing the shelves to replace the two plates that had fallen and broken.

As Brian left the store, he looked at his watch, 9:15 p.m., my goodness, he had lost track of time. The cold winter wind blew through the streets as he walked back to his apartment. The streets were still bustling, as they never seemed to sleep. On his way back he passed by at least 17 beggars, some old, who were destitute because of pricey hospital bills, some young people, who were struggling to keep jobs because of demons from their previous life, and some with families who were the result of misfortune. Brian did not like to talk or ever give to people like that because he feared being scammed and giving away money to people who did not need it.

He pulled out his keys and unlocked the door to his apartment.

He turned on the light, put the plates on the table and plopped himself in front of the TV. He scanned quickly through at least 27 channels, before shutting off the TV, dissatisfied by what it had to offer.

He then got up from the couch, grabbed his coat, scarf and keys, and walked out.

Walking was one of his favorite pastimes. When he was not working, or playing the flute, you could expect to find him roaming the streets looking for inspiration for his books, or new songs played by the street musicians at the corner of Main street. This time he walked with concentration looking at the dark sidewalk which reflected his mood. As he walked, he thought about Lillian.

39 -- the the repeater repeater 41 She was special to him. She was the only person he knew who appreciated the music and the arts the way he did. But he kept asking himself, “Is she the right one for me?” This wasn’t the first time this had happened. There had been several occasions in the past three years they had been dating. He would say meet him somewhere at one time, and when she didn’t show up she would say that he said it would be at another time, even if he had physical proof.

There had been so many hiccups in their relationship, and yet, so many fond memories, he didn’t know if it was right or wrong to keep prolonging the relationship. He looked up and found he had wandered into unfamiliar territory. He decided to pursue the path to put his mind somewhere else. He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight.

The path wasn’t totally dark. It was luminated with the occasional yellow light from the street lamp. The residential area was different than what he was used to. It was quiet and calm in the evening unlike the busy streets he was used to. As he walked, he hummed to the tune of “Imagine” by John Lennon. So he came upon a local church, which was more the size of a chapel. He had gotten tired from walking a long way and decided to rest there a few minutes before he continued on his journey home.

The door creaked as he opened it. It was very rustic inside.

The pews were worn down and would have given you splinters if you rubbed your hand along them for more than a foot. Light gleaned from 24 candles that were only nubs. Sitting in the front was an elderly man who was deep in prayer. From what he could tell, he was probably homeless and decided to avoid him as to not be mugged.

He noticed, however, a pool in the front of the room.

It was probably a baptismal font, but he decided to further investigate it anyway. The boards under his feet creaked as he walked up the aisle. The man at the front didn’t react to Brian’s approach. Once he reached the font, he dipped his hand into it and then proceeded to make the sign of the cross.

“Why are you here?” a voice spoke. Brian turned around. He looked at the man but the man was too concentrated to have spoken.

“Why are you here?” the voice said again. He turned around to the front and looked above to see a cross speaking to him. “Why are you here?” the cross asked him for a third time. He was too shocked to answer. Words escaped him and he began to stutter.

the repeater repeater -- 42 40 the “You need to find her and reconcile with her. Only then will you be happy.” “Who? Lillian?” “Not her but you know the one of whom I speak.”

“No. No. No! She...she betrayed me and betrayed my trust.

How can I be happy with such a harlot? Lillian is the one who makes me happy. We have so much more in common than she and I ever had.”

“Trust me. Chloe is the right one for you. If you marry Lillian, you will constantly fight and end up in divorce. With Chloe, you will produce smart, kind, caring children.”

“And if you choose no, you will be forever lonely and die an unaccomplished man.” As soon as it said that, his phone began to ring.

It was Lillian.

“Hello.” Brian said. “Look you,” she said, “it was probably me this time who screwed up. So I will take the blame for this one. I’m sorry.” Brian was elated, but he remembered the word of the cross.

He shouldn’t go with her, but his heart told him this was a second chance. A chance to be rescued from the momentary depression of the fight earlier. “I forgive you. You know, let’s go out tomorrow. 5 o’clock, perhaps. We could go to the fancy Japanese restaurant you like.”

“Sure, that sounds great.” Brain ran out of the chapel in happiness.

For the next few months their relationship seemed to be going swimmingly. There were no more fights and they even had plans to get married. And on December 13 they finally did. As they processed out of the Church and down the steps to the limousine, Brian once again remembered the words of the cross, and how he defied them and did have a successful relationship with Lillian.

However, it was not to last. A year later, Lillian became interested in another handsome, richer man since Brian had not sold a book in months and money was running low. Brian and Lillian divorced exactly 16 months to the day of their marriage. Brian went on to write one or two momentarily successful novels, but not much money came from them.

He later moved out of his apartment and performed the violin on the streets. He was happy to play music for the people of the city but longed to have someone to enjoy every note with.

43 41 -- the repeater

A Family’s Bond KAITLYN NEUMAN

Family forever tight, strong, as one Every branch of the tree weighted and unique Is simple and complex as once began Wandering the backwoods to spot each peak Siblings squabble as they grow and learn To bolster up their sad and dark crossroads Laboring their bond like grain to a quern Dissect the stress by choosing the byroads To bicker and to conquer is normal Parents show compassion to each other Showing their kids how to be formal Teaching them to always love another Our family is an eternal gift People that are there to give us a lift

the repeater -- 44 42

Fräkmüntegg STACY ANDREWS