Landon Scott’s Perspective

Waking up, I crept out of bed, careful not to wake up Jess, but she was already in the kitchen getting ready for work. Weird. She never wakes up before me. I flipped the light switch just to discover the power is out. After drawing the curtains open, I saw that the snow from last night's blizzard had reached halfway up the window of our first-floor bedroom. It was just the beginning of winter, and here in the small town of Flemmings, Wyoming, the first snowfall is always the worst. I love this time of year. When icicles form off of the gutters of houses, giving them a crystal sheen. When everything is covered in a glistening sheet of snow. And especially when everyone is inside sitting by the fire trying to stay warm, I have the opportunity to take a long walk around Adalear Lake, which is right down the road from my house. Especially this morning, hardly anyone should be out. Whenever there are no people, you really can't beat the peacefulness of the quiet morning surrounding you. I always bring a good book with me in the warmer months, my favorite being Moby Dick.

I put on a light coat so I could still feel the crisp air, then headed out. The only sidewalks which were maintained and shoveled led into town, away from the lake. To my surprise, just past the center of town, there was a cluster of people, all tightly bundled in heavy coats and funny-looking hats. Of course, no power means no television, so no forecast. The crowd of people huddled around the window of a news station, which has one of the only generators in town.

Tom Holder, a local newsman’s voice boomed out from the speakers into the winter streets, “A John Doe was found this morning in Adalear Lake. The man was found frozen and frostbitten all over. Through an autopsy, the body has been proven to be dead for weeks. The family has yet to identify him.”

My eyebrows went up and I turned to the woman standing next to me, “Crazy ways people go these days, huh?” She didn't respond. Taking another look at her, she looked familiar, almost as if I'd talked to her recently.

Jessica Scott’s Perspective

Waking up, alone again, I stumbled to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. Today will just start with another morning of drinking coffee by the fire, alone with my thoughts. Landon used to make me my morning coffee, with three cubes of sugar each time. Of course, that will never happen again. I walked outside just to discover that my car was blocked in by a mound of snow, so I decided to walk. I still don't get why they make me go in with these conditions! This town should be able to survive without a librarian for one day. We just got a new shipment of books in, and it's my job to put them away. When I opened the box, one book stood out to me. First I saw the whale on the front. My mind instantly went to my husband, with his love for Moby Dick. I remember giving him this book when I started working there. A feeling I’ve never felt before rushed over me, a deep, true sadness. I still can't wrap my head around this. It’s even all over the news. I knew that they found the body, but I refuse to go down to identify him. If I were to, it would force me into reality. Landon is dead.

Landon Scott’s Perspective

Confused, I continued on my walk. I headed into the thick layer of snow, away from the maintained sidewalk and towards Adalear Lake. I walked towards the small beach, or what will be a beach later next year. I stood on the edge of the water in awe. Covered in mirror-like ice, the lake was more beautiful than ever. Something in my mind told me that I needed a closer look. I placed one foot on the ice, then the other. Assuming that it is at least a foot thick, I continued. At first, I slowly walked, cautious where I stepped, avoiding the thinner spots. Over the next few minutes, I sped up, gaining speed. Now at a full sprint, I realized how free I felt. Nothing mattered anymore. Heading for the middle of the water, I lost my balance, everything was cold and then I saw darkness… Waking up, I crept out of bed, careful not to wake up Jess, but she was already in the kitchen getting ready for work.

When Rain Falls in Summer

Over the clouds of mourning dew

There’s reasons to think of what You were and how I embraced that, I miss what I was

The sky draws me out of my room

Thinking of the past you, I wish You kept the confidence I now lack

Within the downpour of summer

When it rains, it pours the tears Bottled up in my eyes

The things I said to you that hurt Me, the old me, that is what you are. The rain that falls in summer is Nothing but the tears of my Youth of which you longed for Something that couldn’t be saved

Day Gone to Waste

I lay flat on my bed And let the weight consume me. My unproductiveness Still far too exhausting to bear.

My ears ring

As the street is still, But my mind can’t help but run, Creating the loudest silence.

This home is but only a house When no one else is with me, And so I remain in this lonely atmosphere That encompasses my presence.

And still, I lay here, My eyes heavy As I watch the setting sun And the moon rising above the horizon.

Warmth shines down, engulfing me and the land surrounding Life begins to flourish, encompassing divine ecstasy into every crisp fulfillment of breath

As my body is drawn down the river I seep further inwards, slowly dissolving into this so-called “divine ecstasy” until the border between reality and euphoria no longer exists. Your heavenly presence flows throughout in every kiss of warmth that shines down from above Golden, your joy and love persist onwards

Your echos dissipate throughout the illumination that I bathe in I can almost hear you

Although your divine embodiment has passed the barrier of reality and ecstacy, unable to rejoin our reality, you have seeped into the river, just as I did

But unlike me you will remain here, intoxicating the life surrounding with your rhapsody

You flow in this loop for eternity under golden light

Boundlessly engulfed in warmth, because for you change will never come

Comfortable moonlight,stardustcoursing throughmyveinsand meteoritesconstructing mybones.

Thetreesabsorbmyproblems intotheirrootsandcastthem farintothestarsthroughtheir leaves.

Aforestbath,acleanse

Iliftmyheadandinhalethe the canopy is my ceiling, stardustcoursing veinsand constructing bones. bath,acleanse is my ceiling, for the soul, mind,andbody, where the earth ismysoap, Themossismyfloor, and the mushrooms are my chairs.

Miniature Life

Footsteps that are as loud as thunder are heard everywhere I go. Huge chunks of edible textured rocks surround me. Each survival mission I carry out, the more risk I’m taking. Running as fast as I can while carrying heavy rocks on my back. People are afraid of us as they scream, “Ants!”

Flashing Lights

It seemed like a movie that could have ended horribly. While driving home on the highway, my family and I were stopped by a police officer. While the officer walked up to the window, hundreds of thoughts ran through my mind. I recalled all of the movies and all the news stories of cops pulling over people of color, and it always resulted in people losing their lives to a cop or in someone being locked up. My heart was beating a mile a minute, and I didn’t know what to do. My mom started to remind my dad to just cooperate with the officer.

I felt as if this was the last time I would see my dad.

I continued to calm myself down through the conversation, but I could tell I was not the only one in the car that was nervous; I could feel the tension in the air. I kept thinking of all the good memories with my family as I was growing up. I also kept thinking that I could be overreacting about this whole thing: maybe the officer was friendly, and he stopped us for something minor. I continued to contemplate all the possible outcomes as I sat there in silence.

Contributors

1-2. Anonymous (poem)

3-6. Ela Onat ’ 26 (art)

7-8. Ela Onat ’ 26 (art); Edward Keane ’ 27 (poem)

9-11. Ela Onat ’ 26 (art)

12. Chenxin (Eric) Yan ’ 23 (poem)

13. Anonymous (art)

14. Chenxin (Eric) Yan ’ 23 (poem)

15-16. Anna Milne ’ 24 (photo)

17-22. Anna Milne ’ 24 (photos)

23. Abigail Ahlijanian ’24 (poem)

24. Sabine Balentine ’ 27 (photo)

25-27. Ela Onat ’ 26 (art)

28. Abigail Ahlijanian ’ 24 (poem)

29-30. Ela Onat ’ 26 (art)

31-34. Calvin LaFrance ’ 26 (photos)

35-36. Natalie Boissevain ’ 25 (short short)

37-44. Luke Legein ’ 24 (photos)

45-46. Calvin LaFrance ’ 26 (photo)

Sebastian Knoop ’ 25 (poem)

47-50. Ela Onat ’ 26 (photos)

51. Sabine Balentine ’ 27 (photo)

52. Isabella Li ’ 25 (poem)

53-54. Luke Legein ’ 24 (photo)

55-56. Rachel Hambly ’ 24 (photos)

57-58. Katelyn Harvey ’ 24 (poem)

Anna Milne ’ 24 (photo)

59-62. Anna Milne ’ 24 (photos)

63-64. Sabine Balentine ’ 27 (photo)

Anonymous (poem)

65-66. Skye Nugent ‘24 (art)

67-68. Skye Nugent ‘24 (poem)

Calvin LaFrance ‘26 (photo)

69. Calvin LaFrance ’ 26 (photo)

70. Ouranab Murtaza ’ 27 (poem)

71-72. Arnell Peck ’ 25 (writing)

73-74. Hailey Greenberg ’ 25 (art)