Unfazed, the ghost doesn’t reply. It moves the curtains and floats to the window. Lisa can almost hear it sigh, can see the outline of a paw cradled against the glass. She tightens her grip on the knife. continued next page
Reaching, Reyna Sanchez ’22, digital
starts to glow, turning its head and rising a foot off the ground. Lisa takes the Swiss Army Knife from her bag—shoved between her car keys and old movie tickets—and makes a vaguely threatening gesture at the ghost.
The Publication of the Arts
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