Part Two: Summer | The Glass Knife 2023

the glass knife

Summer

““It is still summer, but the summer is no longer alive. It has come to a standstill; nothing withers, and fall is not ready to begin.

There are no stars yet, just darkness.”

— Tove Jansson, The Summer Book

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ňŇŇĸŅշŌ

by Siri Atluri ’24

F

reedom is hardest to attain when it is longed for yet simultaneously, oh so fear-inducing. ňŇŇĸŅշŌ ĻłŊ ķł Ōłň ķĴŅĸ Ňł շňŇŇĸŅ ĴŊĴŌ when those wings of yours ever persistent in their delicate beauty are too easily swayed by the wind?

Perhaps you are named a monarch ĹłŅ ľŁłŊļŁĺ ĴչĸŅ ņňĶĻ Ĵ ŃĸŅļĿłňņ շļĺĻŇ the safety of the warm season ĴŁķ ŇĻĸ շłŊĸŅяņ ņŊĸĸŇ ĵĿłłŀ is death’s door waiting just around your corner.

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the glass knife Nocturne Prairie ļĴ ŅłŊķĸŅ яҳҵ Acrylic

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the glass knife ĴĿłŁĺ ŊļŇĻ ŇĻĸ ľŁļĺĻŇņт ĴĶľĿļŁĺ ŊļĿķĿŌп he slapped Sir Gustav across the back, then rested a hand on his shoulder. “Let ŀĸ ĺĸŇ ŇĻĴŇ ļŁņĸĶŇ łծ Ōłňпё Ļĸ ņĴļķт

Jagged

by Ishaan Sekhon ’24

A

dark storm eclipsed the starlight and brought deafening thunder.

A red-haired man stood out in the pitch-black darkness, resting gently by the swaying trees. His clothes were tattered, drenched, and enveloped in ŁňŀĸŅłňņ łķłŅņс ŀňķп ĴņĻп ĴŁķ ĻłŅņĸ manure.

“Huh?” Suddenly Eric slammed his arm into the man’s mouth, knocking him to the ground. Gustav shrieked as an explosion of blood and teeth rippled across his face. My mistake,” Eric said. “I confused his mustache for a caterpillar.”

Eric clutched a bloodied and tattered scrap in his right hand, which barely resembled a human. The memory had belonged to his sister.

He carried a jagged dagger in his other hand, which he had subconsciously used to carve images of knights and monsters on a tree.

Eric whistled while he strolled toward a nearby tavern, which was louder than the roaring thunder. He slammed the door open, causing several splinters to smack him in the face, but he was still unnoticed.

At the center of the bar were two bulky men, both clad in armor, who bellowed at unheard jokes. Eric’s eyes gleamed with hunger and excitement. չĸŅ ķĴŌņ łĹ ņĸĴŅĶĻļŁĺп Ļĸ ĻĴķ ձŁĴĿĿŌ found Sir Sebastian and Sir Gustav.

He strutted towards them, laughing

Before Sebastian could rise to his feet, Eric leaped towards him, but the knight threw the table towards him. Eric quickly dodged the table, but the knight tackled him and threw him to the ground.

“Was that your entire plan?” he asked, strangling Eric.

Eric jerked his head away from Sebastian. “Oh god. Please get away from me. Your breath is awful.” Sebastian punched him. “Who are you?” ŅļĶяņ ĸŌĸņ ձĿĿĸķ ŊļŇĻ Ĵ ĵňŅŁļŁĺ ĻĴtred. “Justice,” he breathed faintly. Eric spat on the knight a second time, then stabbed his neck with his dagger, then twisted it. Sebastian’s anger turned to shock, then to horror. He opened his mouth, then blood splattered onto Eric’s body.

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the glass knife The tavern was silent as Eric shoved ŇĻĸ ľŁļĺĻŇяņ ĶłŅŃņĸ łծ Ļļŀ ĴŁķ Ņłņĸ Ňł his feet. Rivers of blood descended from his face to his chest. He grinned devilļņĻĿŌ ĴŇ ňņŇĴʼnяņ ĻłŅŅļձĸķ ĹĴĶĸт ňņŇĴʼn had also risen to his feet with a sword in his hand.

Gustav screamed at him, then swung at Eric. Eric dodged the blow, then lunged at the knight. He thrust at the knight’s shoulder, but his dagger bounced harmlessly. He swung for Gustav’s face, but he slid back.

Mary, Eric thought. He saw his sister waving to him on a grassy plain and his sister’s body in the village slums. A single punch had nearly shattered her skull. ŅļĶяņ ŁłņŇŅļĿņ շĴŅĸķ ňŃ Ĵņ Ļĸ Ņĸŀĸŀbered his sister’s body. He roared as he forced himself to stand. He quickly ĺĿĴŁĶĸķ ĴŅłňŁķ ŇĻĸ ŇĴʼnĸŅŁс ňņŇĴʼn ŊĴņ charging at him, his dagger was gone, silverware lay around the room, and he was close to the door.

“Gustav, when did you lose your honor? What part of the knight code allows you to kill little girls because they didn’t call you ‘Sir?’ Is your pride truly that fragile? Or are you simply a scumbag? Who decided that your pride was above justice? Was it your gold? Your armor? Your glory? What gave you the right to abandon your honor?”

The only way a knife can beat a sword is if I get in close, Eric thought, but the knight was also heavily armored. A silver blur շĴņĻĸķ ĵĸŇŊĸĸŁ ŅļĶяņ ĸŌĸņ as Gustav stepped forward.

Eric moved right, but Gustav anticipated that.

Eric grunted in pain as Gustav slashed his chest.

Eric stumbled back, then crashed into a chair. Eric groaned as he searched for his dagger. It was nowhere near him. Eric saw a blurry Gustav charge toward him.

ŅŇ

ծ Ĵ ņŇĴ

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Gustav glanced around the room full of onlookers. “Shut up! You have no right to question me. You killed Sebastian.”

“Sir Sebastian,” Eric

the glass knife said. “If you say otherwise, he’ll kill you.”

Gustav screamed at him. “Shut up!”

“Her name was Mary!”

“SHUT UP!” Gustav burst towards him. He swung wide, but stumbled over the debris in the tavern. He missed Eric, who leaped

towards him.

“Her name was Mary,” Eric whispered in his ear, while holding a knife to Gustav’s neck, then he cut his throat.

The tavern erupted with screams as Eric walked out while whistling the tune of the song he had always sung to Mary. A ballad of a heroic knight coming to rescue her from a monster.

Gray Forest ĴŅĴ ĻļŁ яҳҶ Acrylic

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the glass knife Falling ļĴ ŅłŊķĸŅ яҳҵ Graphite

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the glass knife Wounded

by Jordyn LaPlaca ’25

W

Ripe Andrew Klieger ’25 Acrylic

hat more is there to say?

You wounded my heart. Łķ ŁłŊ Ĵŀ ĽňņŇ Ŀĸչ Ňł ŃŅĴŌт That one day I won’t feel as if I have been ripped apart.

A shredded soul. ŅňņĻĸķ ŃŅļķĸт But you are hard as coal.

You take all my tears in stride.

No man or woman did this to me.

None would be capable of such.

But I never once thought it would be The world itself that would hurt me this much.

One day humanity will burn.

And in my grave I am sure I will not turn.

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Solstice

Untitled ĿĴļŅĸ ĸŀŀĸĿĿ яҳҷ Mixed Media

Three-dimensional artwork of The Glass Knife

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Peacock Pin Siri Atluri ’24 Sterling Silver

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Deer Mask Natalie Park ’23 Mixed Media

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łłŅŊĴŌ Ňł ŇĻĸ ҳұŇĻ ĸŁŇňŅŌ Brynne Barnard-Bahn ’23 Multimedia

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the glass knife Roundabout Greenery

by Samhita Kumar ’23 Embroidery

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I’ve Got A Feeling I’m Falling Brynne Barnard-Bahn ’23 Acrylic

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Splanky Brynne Barnard-Bahn ’23 Acrylic

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Branches Minh Dang ’23 Acrylic

Apricity

by Anika Nadgauda ’26

A

pricity (n) - The feeling of the sun’s warmth in the winter Ļĸ ĹłŅĶĸձĸĿķ łĹ ĿļĺĻŇ ĴŁķ ŊĴŅŀŇĻ A shield from the cruel cold-hearted world A misguiding feeling that leads to betrayal For no matter what the heart yearns for

The sun will always set.

The next morning it rises again Yet again covering me with her fondness ňŇ łŁĸ łչĸŁ ĹłŅĺĸŇņ ŇĻĴŇ ŇĻĸ ĶłĿķĸŅ the winter gets The less time the sun stays up Apricity (n) - The false feeling of security hiding betrayal

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the glass knife The Way You Look At Me ĵŌ ŀļĿŌ łłľ яҳҴ

Y

łňŅ ĺĴōĸ ĹĴĿĿņ ňŃłŁ ŀĸ ņłչĿŌ ĴŁķ ŀŌ ĵŅĸĴŇĻ ĶĴŇĶĻĸņ ļŁ ŀŌ ŇĻŅłĴŇт You look at me; it’s always been the way you look at me.

Your eyes are a void and I’m falling into them.

Drowning, sinking, slipping further and further with each passing second.

“I love you” And the way in which you say those three simple words is unexplainable. Ň ŀĴľĸņ ŀĸ ŊĴŁŇ Ňł ĵĸĿļĸʼnĸ ŌłňѴĴŁķ ձŁķ ŀŌņĸĿĹ ňŁĴĵĿĸ Ňł ňŁķĸŅņŇĴŁķ the complexity of such a simple statement.

I’m confused, stuck, stagnant.

Peace and safety. Love. I still don’t understand what that word means.

I could look into your eyes forever.

It’s silent—and silent seconds pass and I never want it to end.

I’m scarcely aware of my own breath, but I can hear yours.

I want you to breathe into me. Into me, breathe into me.

I want to hear you say it again. Whisper it into my ear and I’ll be yours.

I am yours.

I try to say it back—say it back like you do.

I want it to sound like I believe too, but it comes out wrong.

Maybe I’m the one that’s scared of love. яŀ Ňłł ņĶĴŅĸķ ŇĻĴŇ ŊĻĸŁ ձŁĴĿĿŌ ĻļŇ ŇĻĸ ĺŅłňŁķп яĿĿ ĵŅĸĴľт It’s always wrong and my stomach coils up with guilt.

I don’t deserve you—I don’t deserve your innocent love. łŁķļŇļłŁĴĿ ĿłʼnĸѴķłŁяŇ ĵĸ ĶłŁķļŇļłŁĴĿ Ŀłʼnĸт łʼnĸ ŀĸп Ŀłʼnĸ ŀĸ Ŀļľĸ Ōłň say you will. Love me until I learn.

Let me learn to love as you do.

I look back into your eyes, entranced, and I stay.

I stay.

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Indecisive

i

by Lauren Lu ’24

n my dreams, the sorceress pays me a visit, swathed in cool mist and black robes. although she is silent, her object is explicit, ĿļչļŁĺ ĻĸŅ ŇłŅĶĻ Ĵņ ļ ľŁĸĸĿ ĴŇ ĻĸŅ Ňłĸņт as i tremble in awe and in fear at the magic i sense near beside this beacon in the murk, ŇĻĸ ʼnłļĶĸ łĹ ŇĻĸ ķĴŅľ ĿĴķŌ ļŁձĿŇŅĴŇĸņ ŀŌ ŀļŁķ ĴŁĶļĸŁŇ ĴŁķ ŀŌņŇļĶ ĴŁķ ŀłŅĵļķĿŌ ĶňŅļłňņс what will you do? how will you act? beyond where she stands lay my options, ŇĻŅĸĸ ĵĸĹłŅĸ ŀĸѴĿĸչп ŅļĺĻŇп ĴŁķ ĶĸŁŇĸŅѴĴŁķ Ĵ ĹłňŅŇĻ ļĹ ļ ŇňŅŁ ĵĴĶľ ĵňŇ ļ Ĵŀ ĹŅłōĸŁп Ňłł ķĴōĸķ Ňł ŅĸĴĶŇт the goddess Hecate looms over me, ĻĸŅ ņŃĸĶŇŅĴĿ ձĺňŅĸ ĵĿňŅŅļŁĺ ŊļŇĻ ŇĻĸ Ĺłĺп շĴŀĸ շļĶľĸŅļŁĺп ŀļņŇ ņŊļŅĿļŁĺп ŀĴĺļĶ ĵňļĿķļŁĺт Ĵ ķłĺяņ ĻłŊĿ ŃļĸŅĶĸņ ŇĻĸ ŁļĺĻŇт Ĵ ĶłłĿ ĵŅĸĸōĸ ņŀłŇĻĸŅņ ŇĻĸ ĿļĺĻŇт i am at a crossroads.

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ҳұҳұ Stella I. ’25 Photography

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New-Old Year

ĵŌ ŀļĿŌ łłľ яҳҴ Should I wish for a winged dove, Łķ ŊĴŇĶĻ ļŇ շŌ ĴŊĴŌы Ňņ ĹĸĴŇĻĸŅņ ձĿĿĸķ ŊļŇĻ ĿļņŇņ ĴŁķ ľļņņĸņп That midnight surely brought. Ļłņĸ ŊłŅķņ շŌ ĻļĺĻп ĶĸŀĸŁŇĸķ ŇŅňĸп All the hopes we hope don’t die.

An old year’s dream, awake anew, łŀĸ ŇĻĸ ŀłŅŁļŁĺ ņňŁп շŌ ĻļĺĻт

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Hare Natalie Park ’23 Marker

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