SKALD 2018

SKALD

v i ll a m a r i a c oll ege a r t & li t e ra r y p ubli c a t i o n

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2018

COLOPHON

Growth … transition … transformation … the academic life

The 2018 edition was designed with the user experience in mind. Repetition of elements from the cover painting, representative of the balance of manual and digital processes is seen throughout the spreads.

of a student is a series of challenges and opportunities that take effort and energy to master. New ways of looking and thinking demand an openness to change, an embracing of risk, a willingness to experiment and perhaps to fail. It takes dedication and persistence to one’s craft, to one’s art, to one’s discipline to succeed.

SKALD has always sought to share examples of our students’ best work in the arts and literature. The process requires focus. We played with themes that utilize these concepts and found ourselves in 2018 following a new paradigm, leaving a 41-year history of the printed page and moving into an age of environmental consciousness and viewer accessibility.

Of course, millennial students have been working, creating and communicating digitally virtually their whole lives.

Much of the work here has been constructed digitally in photography, design and animation. The 21st century

The publication has been consistently awarded for both content and design from the Columbia Scholastic Press association, The Association of Writers and Writing Programs, and the American Advertising Federation “Addy” Awards.

Thank you to all the students who entered and to the entire Villa Maria College community for their continued participation and support.

demands that they “think differently” and they are exploring possibilities in ever-changing fields.

SKALD is a presentation of work produced by students.

All students are welcome to submit literary and/or artwork completed in courses at Villa Maria College.

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Final selections are made by program-specific faculty and advisors to the publication. Design decisions are made by the student staff.

This is edition of SKALD is arranged in spreads as a tribute to our printed heritage, but is universally available at https://www.villa.edu/campus-life/skald/.

STAFF

Dee Ann Stachowski

is often organic, sometimes very deliberate, and always

The display font Coco Goose is paired with the neutral legibility of Lato in a scale that complements most screen sizes. Baskerville Italic adds a warm, nostalgic nod to historical print processes.

ART HISTORY COLLAGE COVER IMAGE

2018

SKALD

An ancient Scandinavian poet who memorialized the epic deeds of the Vikings with elaborate recitations at court.

CONTENTS ANIMATION

INTERIOR DESIGN

Tien Nguyen 22 Jenna Zielkiewicz 40 Tien Nguyen

44 Rene Miller

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3 FINE ART 6 8 14 16 20 30 31 33 38 46 47 59

Tien Nguyen Rachel Costanzo Jesse Menshel Jamie Pawlak Dee Ann Stachowski Shanel Kerekes Shanel Kerekes Dee Ann Stachowski Tay Morris Déjà Walker Déjà Walker Dominique Davis

GRAPHIC DESIGN

TRAVIS SPRINGER senior SHELBY BRAIDICH junior EMILY KACZYNSKI sophomore

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JULIE ZACK graphic design JOYCE KESSEL english BOB GRIZANTI graphic design

26 27 28 36 50 53 57

12 19 37 42 43 49 54 55 56

Maria Schiltz Travis Springer Lindsay Neilson Michael Morganti Lindsay Neilson Travis Springer Emily Kaczynski Cheryl Giancarlo Samuel Boczarski Shelby Braidich

Kimberly Holtyn Paige Berkheiser Paige Berkheiser Kimberly Holtyn Bianca Gullotti Erika Moeller Emily Sniegowski Bianca Gullotti

LITERATURE 2 7 9 15 18

STUDENT DESIGNERS

FACULTY ADVISORS

PHOTOGRAPHY

21 29 31 32 39 45 48 51 54 58

Jenna Zielkiewicz Rebecca Kendall Kelsey Jackson-Ross Alexandra Snow Rachel Tabak Lyric Hartwell Olivia Venezia Siera Rogers Alexandra Lipinski Joshua Folaron Nina Cray Romona Harkness Patrice Moody Tayton Troidl Ashley Hardy

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Every person has a riddle to tell, a riddle to ponder, a riddle to dwell on unclear feelings, be it love, Where no one has gone, but everyone has been, counter-clockwise thoughts that are locked up within echoes in our skulls, throughout our entire being,

Jenna Zielkiewicz

behind our existence, why we came to be.

How am I going to live? What is the purpose of me?

None of those questions have a predetermined arc,

Kimberly Holtyn

inside erratic mazes, we search for a meaning

SEE ME

WHO AM I?

questioning our identity in the world up above.

life is spontaneous, and we are the spark.

We set things in motion amid the world at large.

Our circuits run deep, our wires give charge.

But, if you soar below that place in your head, where grim wonders lurk, turning wings into lead, take it upon yourself to mold your soul vapor.

You are a pencil, and life is your paper.

Although mistakes are made, a few we can’t erase, there is always room to write, there is always extra space.

But, if you lose yourself to an empty white sheet,

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and your mind reflects a blank, your soul admits defeat, remember the riddle that you yourself made, the ideas that you crafted, the character that you played.

Up until now, and forever more, you will always be able to unlock your founding door.

You have always possessed the key from the start, only if you are not afraid to recognize your heart.

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FRUIT

(RENDERING) Tien Nguyen

100617

NITTAYA CHEMKOMNERD Rebecca Kendall

Tien Nguyen

Shame on you Distance To keep us apart Yet, Gratefully two worlds Destined to cross paths, two soul sisters Came together.

85 hundred miles away, Your home country, unknown to me.

Our foreign worlds collide, Giving life to new ideas.

Now you’re here...

A sisterhood has spawned; No longer alien

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We are now Nxng SAw (sister)

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CLINT EASTWOOD

Rachel Costanzo

You need to be doing your home homework.” I knew exactly what he was talking about because that was just how life was. I wasn’t a kid. I was a mini adult. Survival was important, not the privileged ideal of “how to live a happy life” because being happy meant being alive.

Learning how to read, write and other academics

were never as important as minding your own business, saving as much money as you can, and focusing on what “really mattered.” School was important, but not really. I struggled in school because I didn’t have the same kind of support that other kids had. Survival was key, and

FATE IN THE PALM OF MY HAND Kelsey Jackson-Ross

learning how to read and write came second if you had time for it. I was put in remedial classes and almost failed every grade up to fifth.

As far back as first grade, or at least that’s as far

back as I can remember, every time I had an English Growing up I was not your typical child. Sure I

Language Arts class, I was taken out of class to receive

went to school and I played with toys sometimes but

individualized attention. This was supposed to help me

my primary focus in life was learning how to live. I was

become a better reader and writer. I will admit, reading

washing the dishes by the time I was four years old. I

was one of my worst struggles. It was so bad, I wouldn’t

began sewing my own clothes by the age of seven;

even do my homework. Ever! Even if I understood the

cooking my own meals; and washing my own clothes

material in class, the words on the page just looked like

by age nine. Before I even turned ten years old I was

symmetrically lined blobs or foreign markings. Nothing

doing things that some people my age today still haven’t

but shaped black ink on paper. The words meant nothing

learned to do. When you grow up poor, this is just how

because I didn’t understand how they combined to make

life is. My father slept all day while my mother worked

sentences. I wasn’t unintelligent, I just couldn’t read as

all day and vice versa. When you grow up poor parenting

well as other kids my own age. I was good at other skills

is nothing more than “You have food in your stomach,

such as drawing, cooking, washing clothes, and fixing

a roof over your head and clothes on your back. Be

things if needed. I knew the ins and outs of taking care

grateful.” I wasn’t ungrateful; I just wanted more from

of business.

my life. I wanted the skills I needed to pursue greatness

and achievement not just the minimum to survive and

make a change or to try to improve, an embarrassing

over time, I developed the ambition to pursue education

moment in my English class was. I never really read aloud

beyond survival skills.

in class because I stumbled over words. I read sentences

out of order. I hated how I didn’t know the words my

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I didn’t get help with my homework. I couldn’t

read or understand it. I remember one night my father

If failing grades weren’t enough motivation to

class mates knew. Then one day in fifth grade, we had to

demanding me to clean up the living room or the kitchen. read in small groups. Everyone had to read. When it was I said “I can’t. I’m doing my homework.” He didn’t like

my turn, I did my best. I read sentence after sentence

the sound of that. He immediately snapped back and

until I came to a word I didn’t know. At that point I

said “You don’t need to be doing that school homework.

would stop and the teacher or another student would

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help me out before I continued reading. This time was

brother and I, before he went to work. While my

high school life. It eventually became the first novel I’d

work for what you believe in. I started off as a kid who

different. I stopped at the word “if” and everyone just

siblings played computer games, I checked out books

ever written. The book became divided into Part 1 and

couldn’t even read the word “If.” Now, I write books

stared. Nobody helped me figure it out until I explained,

and did my best to read. I studied sentence and

Part 2. Even though I have no intention of getting that

on top of being a college student. There are always

“I don’t know what this word is.” I felt so embarrassed

paragraph structure. I looked to see how and where

particular piece published at all, it is still exceptionally

going to be challenging situations in life, but there is

when they told me that I got out of my chair and

verbs were used. I tried to get the gist of combining a

important to me. It was the starting point of what I am

always a way to overcome difficulties. My experience

crawled under the desk. That was it. I was tired of being

noun with a verb to structure something that actually

now developing into my career. Today I am completely

with learning how to read and write set me up for a life

“stupid” and I was tired of people thinking I was stupid.

made sense. Sometimes I didn’t even know what I was

comfortable reading and comprehending at a college

of believing in myself and having faith in my ability to

I wasn’t stupid, I was just raised differently and nobody

reading. I wanted to understand how writers did it. I

level. I am also currently working on two books of my

overcome difficult situations. If I work hard enough, I

seemed to understand or care about my real struggle.

wanted to know how they were able to create stories

own.

can conquer any problem I am faced with. I will begin to

when I could barely understand how a sentence worked.

the last time I would embarrass myself. That would be

Eventually, I began to write.

to anyone, it would be to never give up no matter

the last time I would look stupid in front of the people

how impossible the situation may seem. Stand up and

who already bullied me for the way I looked, spoke, and

from listening to my teachers read to begin writing

just for being me in general. I developed this mindset

my own book. I didn’t know what it was going to be

that drove my ambition to change. “You can make fun

about or what the title was going to be. I didn’t even

of me and treat me horrible but in the end I am going to

know it was going to be a book; I just wanted to learn

come out strong. I will succeed.” I had to learn to ignore

and practice. I don’t remember what specific books I

the opinions of people who didn’t understand me and

looked at, but it didn’t matter to me. I didn’t read them

My ten year-old self decided that was going to be

I used what I learned from studying books, and

up a book off the shelf, opened it to a random page

and began trying to familiarize myself with the foreign

I’d given up in the past by not doing my

homework and refusing to read in class. That wasn’t

markings. I asked myself questions as I looked at the

working anymore. Giving up wasn’t solving my problem.

book. What word is this? How is this word used in

I couldn’t escape reading forever. I wanted to do more

this sentence? Can I do the same thing if I try to write

than just “survive;” I wanted to live! This may sound

my own sentence like this? I structured my sentences

far-fetched for a ten year old but remember, I wasn’t

and paragraphs in a similar manner as the books I was

a child. I was a trained adult in an adolescent’s body.

reading. I took my time focusing on what letters made

My mind was completely different than my peers. I

up what words, what words corresponded with what

decided to take the first step in making a change.

definitions and how it all came together to create

Whenever a teacher or student read in class, I followed

sentences and paragraphs. I inevitably became a better

along intently. I listened as they pronounced syllables

reader and writer.

corresponding with each group of ink markings on the

paper. That wasn’t enough, though. When the teacher

I was writing became more than just practice. I

gave us our individualized reading tests I was still only

got serious about it and spent more time writing. I

reading fifty-five words per minute, which was only half

eventually began telling a story about high school

of what I should have been reading at age ten in fifth

students and drama they were experiencing. It was

grade. I wanted more. Survival wasn’t my only goal.

kind of ironic because I was a sixth grader writing

about problems I knew nothing about. I was just

I went to the library every Saturday because

that’s where my father would drive my mom, sister,

By the time I was in the sixth grade, the book

mostly making up what I believed to be true about

Maria Schiltz

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kids’ lives, but I was a mini adult.

live, not just survive. This I believe.

INFORMATIONAL AD

what I was going through. They were kids and lived their for entertainment and didn’t care to either. I just picked

From my experience, if I could offer any advice

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APPLE ANNUAL REPORT

Travis Springer

MIXED MEDIA COLLAGE

Jesse Menshel

Just before, students were laughing. As the comedian jumped around, they snapped phone photos for Snapchat. They didn’t take him seriously at first.

Sincerity in the middle of a comedy routine? It seemed out of place.

Alexandra Snow

IT’S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY: A REVIEW

What he said next could’ve resonated with any student.

Many struggle with some kind of mental health issue in college.

In fact, research backs this up. A third consider suicide.

That’s according to Penn State’s website, which highlights a study done in 2013-2014. Mental health needs on campus are a serious issue, reported a 2015 CNN story that included the Penn State results.

Grabowski can relate.

“I’m somebody that struggles with depression and anxiety,” he said.

As he spoke, students seemed rapt. They put their phones in their pockets. Smiles faded. In just a few words, he had captured everyone’s attention.

Grabowski, an “America’s Got Talent” alumnus named Comic of the Year by the Association for the Promotion of Campus Activities, now makes his living touring

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Right after a joke about how people think a bunny’s

colleges. He mixes his observational comedy with

anxiety is cute, Adam Grabowski hopped around stage

motivational speaking.

wiggling his imaginary tail. His point? Anxiety is a natural part of life. We like it in little rabbits, so why

His mission: persuading students to open up about

can’t we accept it without stigma in humans? Grabowski

mental health issues of any kind. Things get better, he

would like us to!

said, when you say something to someone. Talking to anyone is better than keeping quiet about troubles.

That was his message to a crowd in the Villa auditorium last fall as his comedy routine took a sober turn. “There

In 2017, Grabowski visited Villa twice – in the fall and

are many sides to everyone,” he said, “I’m going to try to

spring semesters. It was part of his 150-stop nationwide

be serious for a moment.”

tour of colleges and universities.

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“I thought his show would just be comedy, you know?

Stand-up comedy or whatever,” said Markisha Harris, a sophomore.

Not all college students are willing to share their feelings, which is part of the problem, Grabowski said.

To prove his point, he asked students who struggled with talking about their feelings to raise their hands.

Three hands raised hesitantly. To Grabowski, it seemed like too few.

“You guys don’t want to speak up,” he said.

To encourage honesty and life-saving conversations, he created a campaign called #SAYITANYWAY. The phrase is stamped on the outside of muted, low-key grey wristbands he handed out at the end of his show.

Grabowski said he designed them that way on purpose.

The wristband and a reminder stamped on the inside – “you’re not alone” – are intended to blend in and go unnoticed. Just the way people’s stress, anxiety and mental illness sometimes do.

As he ended his show, he encouraged his audience to keep in touch: He gave out his Snapchat and Instagram handles – @adamgrabowski. Write whenever you need 16

someone to listen, he said.

“I still wear his wristband every day,” said Jessica Czechowicz, a third-year psychology major. “I saw him almost a year ago now but it still helps me get through those rough days.”

DRAWINGS

Jamie Pawlak 17

A SHELL OF ME

I’m tired I’m exhausted I’m whatever adjective fits here I feel so worn out Emotionally and mentally I’m done I can’t take all this shit anymore!

Rachel Tabak

My head is constantly hurting Whether it’s sleep deprivation or lack of caffeine in my system I’m not sure anymore My stomach is in constant knots From all the stress, I put myself through I want to just sit in a corner and cry But my eyes are still red and puffy from my last outburst It feels that I am battling some demon inside Forcing me to breakdown almost daily It’s wearing at me I have been constantly going My body is screaming at me to stop But I have so much that needs to get done Balancing work, school, and an internship While having a sliver of a social life That includes family time too

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Movements are beginning to hurt My bed has become my safe haven And my health is on the back burner once again I dream of curling up into a ball Blasting music And being left alone for once I need a chance to stop for a day But it doesn’t seem like that’s in my schedule anytime soon

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POINT LINE PLANE

Lindsay Neilson

THIS DOESN’T NEED A TITLE

loved it from the moment she saw it. It was perfect, the light sky blue color, the way it felt when she spun around, the small gemstones that caught the light. Eve had always felt somewhat uneasy attending fancy balls and galas, but that evening was pure bliss in her mind.

In mortal life, she’d been a shy girl. The youngest

daughter of four, her older sister already married to a powerful viscount and her two brothers putting the name Belrose ahead of any minor squabbles they might have, she was never pressured to marry or even have much of a presence at court. Eve spent most of her time in the gardens, reading, or filling the parlor with the beautiful chimes of the harpsichord. She floated through a perfect life. In memories, she often saw it as a painting. The colors of lilies and roses in the garden

Dee Ann Stachowski

dissolving into the very air, the light of the sun shining down on her, illuminating her. She often thought she could take those memories of the perfectly happy, quiet girl reading in the garden and frame them.

The last night of that life, she rode down the

cobblestone streets of Paris deliriously happy. Toying with the gemstones of her dress, shining in the lamplight to create an ocean of blues. What was the occasion? She remembered the lights and colors, bright fabrics and jewels sparkling in the soft glow of the hall, music and friendly chatter dissolving together into a comfortable blanket of sound. Now, more than two centuries later, all that remained were the feelings of that night. A sort of vague, fading happiness.

CHASSERESSE 20

Lyric Hartwell

The events of the next morning, however, she

could recall in perfect, painful clarity.

A dull ache. More tiring than painful. That’s how

it began. She awoke with a full ache in her limbs, and a slightly more painful stinging in her eyes. Dragging

As her companions began to make their way

herself out of bed and getting dressed, the perfect

below deck, Eve stood still at the bow of the the ship,

solution seemed to be a walk in the garden. But the

watching a soft pink glow slowly rise over the edge of

moment she stepped into the sun, an explosion of

the horizon. The waves lapped gently, and she felt a

flames erupted out from inside of her, spreading across

cool breeze against her face. She closed her eyes, and

her skin, her clothes, her scarlet hair. Eating her from

began to remember. She remembered the dress. She’d

the inside out. It felt as if her very soul was burning. Her

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memories consumed in flame, her personality becoming

now? She knelt over him, placing her hand on his chest.

charred. Remembering it now, she could still feel the

He was still breathing. Barely. His eyes shot open,

and alleys. Roaming streets at night, her face hidden

than the rest, but they did not return to their carriage.

scars of that painful birth into a new life.

trying to reach panic, but he did not have the energy.

under a tattered cloak. She did not often get the chance

Instead, the man dragged the girl next to him into the

Eyes once full of youthful joy, even in such a miserable

to bathe, so she took great care to hide the blood stains

alley. She made no more sound than a squeak. Eve

fire. She only remembered waking in the dark, unable

existence, were dull, the glimmer of life fleeting.

around her mouth. Her humanity had returned to her,

watched, hidden in the dark. She did not hear what

to move. She clawed her way out of the grave with a

but she no longer lived as a human. She was not truly a

the man was saying, she saw him choking the girl, and

strange sense she had not possessed in mortal life, and

No, not a thought. A pull. Tugging at her mind, telling

predator, either. She was a rat. Scurrying around in the

all Eve could hear was the blood coursing through his

found that while her beauty had been restored, the

her what to do, what she had to do to survive. She knelt

shadows of the city, feeding when she could from easy

body. This was it, her chance. She strode forward.

damage from inside remained. She wandered, aimless.

there for several moments, trying to fight it. Tears rolled

prey. The sick, the starving, the weak.

Neither noticed her until she was almost upon them. As

Sleeping in alleys among the poor souls living in the

down her face as she gave in, knowing there was no

the man turned towards her, his face shifting from anger

shadow of Paris’ opulence and shining beauty. Each day,

other choice.

thought nagging at her. It had been several decades,

to confusion, she lunged for his throat.

she felt weaker. It made her sick to eat any food she

no one she knew from when she was human would

could find.

“I’m sorry.”

recognize her… She could return to her old life. She

paid her no attention as she drank greedily from the

could slip into one of those balls, find a husband. She

man. He was not drained when Eve let him fall to the

Eve did not remember how she survived the

She remembered the first time she thought she

She did not know where the thought came from.

She leaned down, and whispered in the boy’s ear, Then she began to feed. She went for his neck

But through the years, there was always a

One night, a couple left one of these parties earlier

The girl did not run, presumably in shock. Eve

first. Soft, easy for her teeth to tear into. She guzzled

would explain away why she never left their manor

ground, there were more important matters at hand.

up blood, seeing black spots. Crawling around in

down blood as it squirted from his neck. With each

during the day, and she would live a normal life.

She turned to look at the girl, who seemed to try to

tunnels beneath the city to hide from the sun. And then

gulp, she felt strength returning to her. Not just to her

escape through the wall. She made no sound, but to Eve

she saw him. A young boy. Eve had seen him before -

body, but to those parts of her mind that had never

happen when this husband noticed she never aged?

the girl’s heavy breathing was deafening. Eve looked

one of those poor souls living in shadow - with a man

recovered. As she drank this boy’s blood, her humanity

What would he say when she became sick trying to

at the girl’s clothes. Remarkably, there was no blood

she’d assumed was his father. Where was his father

returned to her.

eat real food? When he became suspicious, would she

staining her dress. Eve demanded to have the girl’s

simply kill him and find a new one? No. That was not a

dress, and she agreed.

life she wanted.

She attended plays and operas, and occasionally visited

LIGHTING AND RENDERING

would die living in that shadow state. No food, coughing

Jenna Zielkiewicz

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For decades she lived that way, scouring tunnels

She knew it was a fool’s dream. What would

And yet… She could not let go of the thought

For a century, Eve slipped into balls and galas.

of returning to high society. She began to skulk

Versailles with whichever human she had taken as her

around the brightly lit manors at night. Staying in the

lover. She was distant from the rest of them, but not

shadows, listening to the beautiful voices of violins,

apart. She chased after that feeling of being human

the intoxicating sound of the harpsichord. From the

again. She fell in love so many times over the years, and

shadows, she watched as they arrived in their carriages.

she could remember all of their faces. Two, more than

She saw light glimmering off their jewels, and she

all the others. The first, and the last.

admired the fine clothes they wore. It was a taste of

what she had lost.

met. It was within the first few years of her return, and

Viscount Jeannot. He’d scared her when they first

she was still afraid. Afraid of being found out, to some extent, but mostly she was afraid that she would not know how to be human. She watched from the edges, avoiding people. He saw her, and perhaps driven by the mystery, he wanted to find out more about her. Did she love him? No. No, she did not. But he loved her. After a year, she slipped away, leaving a note apologizing, but saying that he would never see her again.

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That last part was not strictly true. More than

to do for weeks. Rosalie noticed immediately, and tried

to come to an end. For a while, Rosalie simply stayed in

two decades later, and Eve had been careless. His dark

again and again to get Eve to talk about it. If only they

the manor with her, but Eve pushed her to continue to

hair had turned silver, and he wore a moustache. She

could talk, she had said, they would find the answer

live her life.

did not recognize him at first, but when he saw her and

together.

called her name, there was no hesitation. She saw the

One night, Eve broke down, and told Rosalie

when the first few strands of gray appeared in her hair,

longing, the love in his brown eyes and knew it was her

everything. She laughed at first, but stopped when

but that laughter could not cover the deep sadness that

Jeannot. There was a moment, a moment when she

Eve did not laugh with her. She was incredulous, of

Eve felt. For the first time, she would be the one who

considered what to do, and then the question came to

course. Eve was silent, simply nodding yes or no to

was left alone.

her. Did she love him?

no further than becoming acquainted with each other. It

her questions. There was silence, and then came the

went on like this for a while. Every so often, Eve would

question Eve had been dreading.

showed all the times they laughed and smiled together,

but lines that also showed that soon, Rosalie would be

No. She ran. Behind her, she heard him shouting,

crying out. She imagined him stumbling, pushing his way notice the woman with the bright green eyes and the smile that illuminated the night. They would talk under through the crowd to catch her, to talk to her. What

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They laughed at Rosalie becoming an old woman

“You’ve killed people.” Rosalie spoke in a whisper.

Lines appeared in Rosalie’s face, lines that

Tears welled in her eyes. “You’ve… eaten people.”

gone. Eve only talked about it with her love once. That she could change her. Eve still didn’t remember how it

would he say? It was one of the unanswered questions

the lanterns. Several times Eve was nearly brought

in her life that still came to her in her sleep.

to tears by Rosalie’s jokes. Soon, Eve was attending

those who were already dying.” The image of the young

happened to her, but she knew it was something in the

operas she did not even particularly care for just to hear

boy in the tunnels, barely breathing, flashed in her mind.

blood. Eve said it would be like drinking a glass of wine.

she tried to love. She never told any one of them the

Rosalie’s voice.

“The sick and the starving. After the first few decades, I

truth. She left, slipping away in the night, leaving letters

hunted… bad men.”

Eve, but she didn’t want to live forever, either. She was

of how sorry she was. Once, for a woman named

they go see a cabaret show together, but no one would

torn, she felt guilty, and each sob pained Eve’s heart.

Nadine, Eve faked her own death, not wanting to leave

dare question Eve. Many believed she was royalty, or

When Rosalie spoke, it was so softly Eve could barely

She held Rosalie in arms, just as she had done all those

her without closure. It was a mistake. Playing as a

perhaps the widow of a powerful Viscount.

hear her. “Monsters.”

years ago when she told her love the truth, and told her

corpse, she was there for Nadine’s heartbreak. For a

it was okay. They never talked about it again.

time, she considered cutting off this connection she had

lasted for nearly a year. Leaving a cabaret show, they

scream, would call her a monster, would run and Eve

to humanity. She did not want to break anymore hearts.

got in a carriage together, long ago deciding to ignore

would never see her again.

sleep, next to Eve. Eve stayed in the manor for a week,

But then Rosalie arrived in her life.

any rumors that might circulate. They chatted and

sobbing and feeling numb. Eve had to cover her face

Eve first saw Rosalie at an opera. She now

laughed together, but Eve could not remember what

were dying. And then you hunted monsters.” Rosalie

as she arranged the funeral to avoid being seen, and to

owned a manor of her own, wealthy beyond words. The

they said. She only remembered the moment when she

looked at Eve, tears glistening in her eyes. “Right?”

protect herself from the sun. She was reminded, harshly,

monster had clawed her way up. Gone were the days

looked into her eyes and for the first time since walking

about just exactly what she was. She’d had more than

of sneaking in looking for prey. Still only a few months

out into the sun nearly two centuries ago, she felt

her close. “Yes. You know who I am. I promise.”

half a century of happiness, and now it was gone, only

after seeing Nadine heartbroken, crying as Eve swung

human again. Eve leaned in, closing her eyes, and felt

the memories remaining.

from a noose, the vampire was doing all she could to

Rosalie’s lips kissing hers. They embraced, and a year

fingers intertwined together. “I love you.”

distract herself from the dark thoughts swirling around

of skirting around, not wishing to become the center of

anymore. Nothing there would distract her. Ever since

in her mind.

gossip faded away. The servant, a fledging of Eve’s, took

that. But slowly, Rosalie began to tell her jokes again.

she was a little girl, she’d heard people talk about the

them to her manor, and Eve took her love by the hand

The light in her eyes when she looked at Eve was

New World. A land of opportunity for all. It was there

crossing the ocean, could not even remember its name

and led her inside.

full of love. After a while, she even began to say the

she would find what she was looking for.

or what it was about. The only thing she remembered of

word. Vampire. She made jokes about it. They laughed,

the show was the mesmerizing voice of the woman she

bliss, and Eve thought of what would come next. The

together.

would share everything with in the years to come.

heartbreak, for both of them. She briefly considered

hanging herself again, as she had done when she left

together. Eve always took great care to make sure she

chance. They’d bumped into each other the next night

Nadine. But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t leave a

was never recognized across the years. She’d been seen

in the theatre district. They got to talking, but it went

letter either. She was consumed with worry over what

with Rosalie at shows and different events, and that had

There were many others. Some, she loved. Some,

She paid little attention to the show, and now,

After the show was over, she met Rosalie by

Rosalie was concerned when Eve first suggested

This period of friendship turned to courting

Another year passed by, a wonderful year of

Eve could not just nod her head to that. “I hunted

The silence between the two of them grew.

There it was. The moment that Rosalie would

“You hunted monsters. You… helped, people who

Eve took Rosalie’s head into her arms and held Rosalie took Eve’s hand into her own. Their Things weren’t quite the same for a time after

As time went on, they could not be seen

Rosalie cried that night. She didn’t want to leave

Rosalie left her a few years ago. She died in her

Eve decided she could not remain in France 25

SPLIT PEAS Paige Berkheiser

DARWIN MARTIN HOUSE Paige Berkheiser

27 26

HOME

Olivia Venezia

I had a discussion recently with a

We lived on the outskirts of town,

friend about how my hometown is

but I spent a large amount of my

unchanging. “I always feel strangely

young adult life in town, in the

when I am back there,” he said. It

library, or at my mom’s work, or at

was the unspoken, and I had feared

school. On an odd occasion I would

the mention of it really. I had been

wander town, looking at things I

feeling this way since I was a child,

couldn’t afford. I remember it very

but no one had ever said anything

well. I go back often enough. I follow

about it. I grew up in a place of

the same paths, it is my repetitive

repetitive existence.

existence, too.

It changed physically, it was

I suppose that maybe it is a kind

developed, but that never did much

of curse. My friend is much more

to its spirit or aura. Perhaps this

superstitious, he suggested I

is flaw of any semi-rural, wealthy

backpack like he did, that heading

ski town. In an attempt to keep a

out of town and visiting the west

kitschy, rustic feeling, they have

alone would cure the monotonous

sacrificed the outside world’s feeling

feeling that New York gives me. I

of advancement. To be fair, how it’s

can’t leave though—I am too strictly

grown is one of the few things I don’t

rooted in what I am and who I am.

remember. I know the hotel hasn’t been there for ten years, but I can’t

At one point I planned to leave for

remember town without it.

college, but, staying only an hour away was easier on my heart. I would

28

It is uncomfortable to go back, but

rather have nothing change, I would

also uncomfortable to remember. It

rather feel uncomfortably familiar for

had such a strict hierarchy, usually

my entire life than head into a world

coinciding with position to the center

I largely do not know. It is, perhaps

of the village, where houses have

my greatest weakness.

always sold for nearly a million dollar,

INFINITE

Kimberly Holtyn

and the countryside where an acre of land with a trailer on it would only cost eighty grand.

29

STILL ON THE SILL

A CINQUAIN Siera Rogers

Express your feelings, for time on this world is not guaranteed to last forever.

Speak now.

Shanel Kerekes

IN HIDING, IN FLIGHT Shanel Kerekes

30

31

stood before her, anxious to know why she was crying. After all, Christmas was tomorrow and Santa was on his way. There was no reason for tears.

She just shook her head and replied “Don’t worry

about me,” between sniffles. Dad walked down the stairs as he fixed his turtleneck collar, trying to conceal

DECEMBER 24, 1974 Alexandra Lipinski

the blemishes on his neck.

“Hey Tommy, will you give me a hand?” Dad

called to Tommy as he stood by the front door, ignoring his melancholic wife. Tommy was at Dad’s side within seconds and carried the suitcases to Dad’s truck with no trouble at all. Dad didn’t come back in to say goodbye after that. He just

The cool December air filled my lungs as I

launched a frozen snow ball across the yard. It

got in his truck and left.

Tommy came back in with a dusting of winter on

smacked into Tommy, my brother, with a heavy thud. He his head and shoulders as he stomped his feet to knock hurled one back at me, but I ducked

the snow off of his boots. “Tommy, where’s Dad going?”

and it missed me by a few inches. He threw another,

I asked as I scurried over to my brother’s side.

and just like the other one, he missed me again. I could

tell he was getting frustrated. I made a couple more

Tommy answered as he took his boots off and left them

frozen snow balls and flung

by the furnace vent to dry.

them at him, striking him each time. Eventually, Tommy

gave up and we decided to play a new

years. Instead of our relatives and neighbors gathering

game.

at our little house on Morgan Parkway, there were only

32

“I bet I could run to the house faster than you,” I

“He didn’t say where. He just said he’d be back,”

Our annual Christmas party wasn’t like previous

four attendees: Mom, Jimmy, Tommy, and me. Instead of

taunted.

the smorgasbord of food that Mom used to make, there

were only a few stale pizzelles in a bowl on the kitchen

“You’re on,” Tommy said, accepting my challenge.

We trudged across the backyard, passed the rickety, old

table. After all of the guests departed, Tommy and I

shed and passed the bare plum tree, heading towards

would sit in front of the television and watch The Bob

the back door.

Hope Christmas Special while Mom would rock Jimmy, and Dad would sit in the recliner. We didn’t watch any Christmas specials that Christmas Eve, either. Instead of

We burst through the front door simultaneously

and walked into the living room where we expected to see the smiling faces of our relatives as they stood around the room and conversed, but instead we were greeted with a more sobering situation.

Mom was hunkered down in the chestnut

recliner. Her body spasmed vigorously as she held little Jimmy and tears flowed down her cheeks like streams.

UNTITLED FOR YOUR PLEASURE

“Mom, what’s wrong?” I asked as me and Tommy

Dee Ann Stachowski

33

the joyful sound of Christmas songs filling the air, there

was only the soft but violent sound of my mother’s

eyepiece while I held the camera steadily

Christmas, Kathie!” Grandpa Mario

heart breaking.

in my left hand and focused my shot. Click.

said in his heavy Italian accent. Tommy came running to

the door when he heard Grandpa’s

With no guests and no food, Tommy and I tried

were more presents than I’d ever seen in my life. “Merry

Around 10 o’clock, Tommy and I got ready for

to enjoy ourselves, despite having an

bed, brushed our teeth, and said our prayers.

voice and paused when he saw the amount of gifts. His

abnormal start to the holiday.

I put little Jimmy to bed since Mom wasn’t feeling up to

eyes filled with delight. “Merry

it, and climbed into my bed afterwards. I thought of all

Christmas to you, too, Tommy!”

show up?” I asked Tommy as we set out some pizzelles

of the wonderful Christmas presents Santa was going

and milk for Santa, along with the biggest carrot for

to bring me and all of the delicious food that would

tiger chasing its prey. Books, clothes,

Rudolph.

be sitting on the kitchen table for dinner the next day.

dolls, action figures, balls, silly putty, and candy were

There had been hundreds of presents surrounding the

After the milk and cookies were placed so carefully on

Christmas tree during previous years. Big gifts, little

left for him and revealed a 1973 Hot Wheels Steam

the kitchen table, we set out our Christmas stockings,

gifts, fat gifts, skinny gifts. I couldn’t wait to open mine!

Roller. Jimmy tried to open his gift, but Mom had to help Grandma Cozza talked in the kitchen, and

setting a small one out for

I squeezed my eyes tightly and tried to fall asleep, but

him. He received a Fisher Price Pull Bug Toy. Finally,

Tommy and I played with our new presents. “You know,

little Jimmy. We didn’t understand why there was no

it was no use. I tried to rest on my side, then my back,

it was my turn. I tore the wrapping paper off of my

Tommy. I believe Santa left one more

party this year, and we didn’t know what

then my stomach, but I couldn’t get comfortable. There

gift as quickly as I could, only to find out that it was a

gift outside for you,” Grandpa Cozza said. “Go outside

was to come, but like any other children on the night

was no way I could calm the excitement in my heart,

typewriter.

and see for yourself.”

before Christmas, we were excited for

but eventually, around midnight, when my eyes couldn’t

Santa Claus to bring us our gifts.

bear to stay awake any longer, I fell asleep.

asked as tears filled her eyes. I got up from

heading out the door. “Make sure you

the floor and gave her a tight hug.

wear your hat,” Mom called to him, but it was too late. I ran to the back window to see what

“Maybe it’s too cold for Grandma and Grandpa to

“Yeah, or they’re stuck in traffic,” Tommy offered.

Mom was still weeping in the living room when

“Kathie, wake up,” Tommy whispered and shook

Tommy ripped the gift wrap off of the present

“Do you like the gifts Santa brought you?” Mom

Tommy and I tore open those gifts quicker than a

sprawled out all over the livingroom floor.

Grandpa Mario rocked little Jimmy while Mom and

Tommy grabbed his winter coat and boots before

Tommy and I had finished our preparations

my arm. “Santa came!”

for Santa. “Come on, Mom. Let’s take a family photo,” I

Santa was punishing my family like this.

Santa had left my brother, and I was amazed by what I

encouraged her as I picked up the

bed. “Let’s go open presents!”

Were the pizzelles not fresh enough? Had the milk gone

was looking at. Tommy’s very own

polaroid camera.

bad?

hockey net. Santa must’ve dropped it off at Grandma

were crushed as Tommy and I peered at the little silver

wet cheeks.

tinsel tree with only three meager gifts beneath it. Had

dinner where both Mom’s family and

our gifts at their house. It was a simple mistake. Tommy

we been too naughty this year?

Dad’s family would cram into the dining room and have

ran through the snow, nearly tripping over his own two

insisted. Tommy sat on the floor beside Mom and little

a delicious dinner that Mom had

feet as he reached his brand new hockey net. He was

Jimmy sat on Mom’s lap. “Please?”

were not filled to the brim with candy

prepared all day. She would make lasagna, turkey,

facing away from the house, but I could tell that he was

canes and chocolate like other years, either. What did

mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, green bean

smiling from ear to ear.

we do to deserve such a punishment? Did I talk back

casserole, fresh bread with butter, anything your

too much to Dad? Was it because Tommy didn’t listen

heart desired. It was like Thanksgiving all over again.

started to make some lasagna while

to Mom enough? With

However, my hopes began to sink further when the

Grandpa Mario played some Italian Christmas music.

disappointment and confusion replacing the excitement

morning turned into the afternoon and the appetizing

At about five o’clock, the food was ready and we all

and joy in our hearts, we moved on to

scent of turkey cooking in the oven was not filling the

sat around the kitchen table and said our grace. There

opening our dinky gifts.

air.

weren’t as many guests as usual, and the table looked

“No, no. I don’t want to,” she replied, wiping her “Please, Mom? We take one every Christmas,” I

She let out a heavy sigh and wiped the incoming

tears. “All right. Just one.”

34

I stood back and looked through the center of the

I threw the covers off my body and jumped out of My dreams of hundreds of Christmas presents

We checked our stockings, only to find that they

Mom came down the stairs with little Jimmy

“I love mine,” I lied. I couldn’t understand why

Our family always used to have a huge Christmas

Around noon, though, our Christmas became

and Grandpa’s house just like he dropped off the rest of

Grandma Cozza put a roast beef in the oven and

quite empty, but that was okay. Grandma and Grandpa

to watch us open our presents. I was hoping that she

merrier. The doorbell rang and Grandma

were there and

would be happier, but her bloodshot eyes proved that

Cozza and Grandpa Mario stood in the doorway,

that’s all that mattered.

today was going to be another sorrowful day.

clothed in red with armfuls of presents. There

When our bellies were full of Grandma’s delicious

35

EXHIBIT POSTER

food and we couldn’t eat another bite, we all settled into the living room where we watched

Michael Morganti

The Sonny & Cher Christmas Special.

Grandma Cozza and Grandpa Mario stayed at our house for the night, and as the snow fell gently outside my window, I went to bed thanking God for giving my family such a wonderful Christmas.

Dad came back home on December 26, the day after Christmas, but only to retrieve the last of his belongings. I guess he never really learned the true meaning of Christmas.

He was in and out of my and my brothers’ lives for years, but we managed to survive without him. It was tough, and not every day was sunshine and rainbows. However, that Christmas Day in 1974 turned out to be one of the best days of my life. I’ll never forget how Grandma Cozza and Grandpa Mario made it all happen. They really did know how to turn a miserable day into a magical one.

36

37

BROKEN WATERS

Bianca Gullotti

NICK CLONAN, THE PIZZA DUDE Joshua Folaron

It started as just a typical Wednesday

When asked about his plans to ever

English class, when our professor

quit…

Michelle Kearns announced that at

“Unless something better comes up,

1:30pm, the pizza dude would arrive.

It’s hard to beat getting paid to just…

This was highly unexpected, and

you know…screw off and listen to

honestly undeserved, but that’s what

music”

made us appreciate it even more.

Mr. Clonan, our pizza dude, gave us a

For our in-class assignment, we were

little tidbit of information about the

to provide an impromptu interview

occasional urgency at times.

to the pizza delivery guy. But to my

“Two months ago I was speeding and

surprise, this particular pizza dude

got pulled over, doing about 30 over

was ready for any and all questions.

in a 35 but I didn’t get a ticket, and

And don’t take this the wrong way,

the only reason was that the dude

but I wasn’t expecting this guy to

was like “I don’t mess with my food.”

be so well spoken and readily able

Everyone found that quote to be

to answer these questions without

pretty funny, causing an uproar of

being overly nervous. But no, he

laughter.

was responding to the barrage of

At the end of it all, we thanked

questions with well thought out

the pizza dude for his compliance.

answers. I even joked to Max that

The pizza was delicious and much

this guy seemed like a paid actor.

appreciated. It was by far the best

When asked about the strangest

class so far, and for obvious reasons.

thing he’s encountered on the job: “I mean, I’ve been invited into some lady’s house and she was having a bachelorette party…and…you can guess what the cookies were shaped

38

like.”

The pizza dude elaborated.

TEQUILA ROSE

Tay Morris

“A lot of drunk people on game day, but a lot of people are more generous around now since it’s colder and closer to Christmas time.”

39

40

41

SUNRISE

(RENDERING) Tien Nguyen

42

43

TYPOGRAPHIC EXPLORATION Lindsay Neilson

PACKAGE DESIGN Travis Springer

Infusion Bays (left)

Nurse Station (bottom)

Rene Miller

LETTERS FROM X

Nina Cray

ROSWELL PARK PEDIATRIC INFUSION CENTER

It was February 2nd. Groundhog day.

his eyes were wide. Pen realized that the

Penini Anderson was getting ready to

boy had to be no older than nine.

go and witness the groundhog see its

“You’re the psycho who has been sending

shadow – or not. Pen grabbed her coat,

me letters?” Pen shrieked. The boy

car keys, and opened the front door.

started to cry about how he was sending

Before she could make it off the porch,

letters to his pen pal – aka “Pen” – who

she noticed a sealed envelope on the

he hadn’t written to in a long time. The

ground. The envelope was completely

two always played Street Fighter on

blank, and Pen opened it anxiously. The

Xbox Live together and taunted each

writing was sloppy, but there was no

other about beating each other. Just as

mistake. It was addressed to someone by Pen realized what happened, the camera the name of Pen. It read: Hello, Pen. I know I haven’t written in awhile, but I just want you to know… Next time I see you on the street it won’t be pretty. I am going to crush every bone in your body and paint the town red.

Have a good day. Love X

she had set up snapped a photo of her assaulting the small boy. Before she could process what was happening, the little boy got up, snatched the photo and ran away as fast as he could. Penini Anderson just prayed she wouldn’t get charged with child abuse.

Penini immediately picked up the phone and called her ex-boyfriend. Maybe he was the culprit. Pen’s ex claimed to not have written the letter, but she wasn’t so sure. Instead of seeing the groundhog, Pen decided to set up a camera to catch the one who left the threatening letter.

After setting up her trap, Pen left. When 44

she returned, there was a boy on her porch facing away from Pen, another letter in hand. Pen lunged on the boy, surprised at how small he felt. “Aha!” She shouted, snatching the letter from the boy. The boy turned to face her in shock,

45

RESIST 1

RESIST 2

Déjà Walker

Déjà Walker

46

47

RESIST 3

Déjà Walker

Romona Harkness

So you noticed I’m larger than average, congratulations you can now tell everyone that you have perfect vision.

Yes I’m plus size, your point is?

Don’t say I’m pretty for a big girl. I’m pretty period.

I walk from the kitchen to the couch three to four times a day.

I’m not a size six; I’m a size sixteen because I eat every day.

Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, snacks, snacks, and more snacks.

Plus size women do not have a personal hygiene problem.

I wash my ass just as much as you wash yours.

Emily Kaczynski

Don’t assume that I don’t work out.

EVENT POSTER

THE FULLNESS OF WOMEN

SHORTFILMFESTIVAL

PARAPHRASE SEPT102018 2PM–MIDNIGHT

In case you didn’t know, let me share a secret with you, soap and water works the same on all body types.

Stop defining my beauty based on my size!

All women are beautiful; we all have something that contributes to our beauty.

FEATURED FILMS DIVORCE LEMONADE COMMON PRACTICE HOLDUP HIGH PLAINS WINTER

Don’t look at me funny when I order a salad, I’m eating salad, bitch, because I like salad.

No I don’t suffer from low self-esteem, but I can tell you do by the way you project your insecurities on me, go ahead continue eating your one a day salad with two glasses of water.

When you pass out I hope someone is there to revive you with a burger and fry.

I don’t have a weight problem; you have a problem with my weight. Get Help.

48

Why does my cellulite bother you? It doesn’t bother me.

I’m rather proud of it. The dents in my ass took years of pizza, babies and neglect.

Mumu’s aren’t for plus size women, they’re made for airheads who have no sense of fashion, go ahead try one on, you’ll look great in it.

Who said plus size women have low standards when it comes to dating?

Could this be why your successful ex married a plus size model? I’m just curious.

Yes I’m full figured; yes I have full lips and full hips. And yes, you are full of shit!

VISIT HALLWALLS.ORG FOR TICKET PRICING & FULL FILM SCHEDULE

49

HER

Patrice Moody

who stole away her first, true love; her father.

But her father didn’t care, he laughed with the woman as if everything was okay

Women,

and left the girl’s life, forever.

Some are compared to a summer’s day, a rose, or even a sunset by the bay.

In the fall, the girl auditioned for a play.

But not her.

“Take out the trash, man!” was all she had to say.

On stage she said the line.

She was once everyone’s friend,

There was silence as the director took off his glasses.

the chocolate girl shy of age.

“Can you make it more ethnocentric?,”

Compared to an original Oreo

The director asked.

and a black piece of tape,

The girl raised an eyebrow,

Her classmates laughed at her,

her expression unmasked.

she couldn’t escape.

“Well you’re all angry, right? So just do that.”

The director said to her, straight and flat.

So she laughed with them

She left the stage with unspoken words,

and fought away her tears,

suppressing all the vicious adverbs she could say.

as she slowly started to dislike

But they wouldn’t take her seriously anyway.

the outside that was her skin.

The internal voices whispered,

So she grew, suppressing her anger,

“let the self hate begin.”

never taking things to heart.

Always talking about her father

Summertime came, just another excuse for self-loathing.

like he was a good person.

Her father left her mother for another woman

Laughing along with the people

who was the color of fresh coffee

who called her “too dark”

with a dash of French vanilla creamer.

And accepting

The woman had these light eyes,

“You’re pretty for a black girl”

the color of mustard and this long,

as a compliment.

straight hair that flowed 50

INFRARED

Erika Moeller

like the ocean on a windy day.

She ignored the scared looks of white women

The girl confronted the woman

when she walked by, and the lustful stares of white men.

about why her father had to go away.

They’d go on and on to her

The woman laughed and said,

about how they wanted a nice, chocolate woman,

“maybe if you and your mother

But they’d never take her home.

weren’t so dark, he would stay.”

Just f*ck her, leave her, and go home

The girl’s self hate grew,

to their wives who looked down on her

she wanted to be like the woman

like she was some foreign animal.

51

When she wanted a job,

If she was mean, there’d be an uproar.

they didn’t see past her name,

There’d be so many “hurt” feelings

or her long, fake hair.

from people who hurt her in the first place.

They wouldn’t even think twice

So sorry she can’t forgive.

about calling her a “bitter black bitch”

What would you expect

if she got upset with a customer.

if people looked down on you

Because she’s black, she’s not allowed

and made you feel like you

to get upset, she’s not allowed to have feelings!

were nothing your whole entire life?

She’s just supposed to suck it up and deal with it because

To this day, she can’t look in the mirror

“some people are just mean.”

without wanting to be as light as the woman her father left her for.

She hates herself.

She hates herself for not having naturally straight hair, light eyes, smaller lips, a smaller nose.

She hates herself for being herself.

But she’ll get over it.

Because she’s a strong black woman who doesn’t need anyone.

She’ll be alone with false confidence and the gayest smile to make it seem like everything’s okay.

She’s not important and she never will be.

52

Because she’s black, and you’ll only see her for her, just as much as you’ll see me for me.

53

MORGAN

Emily Sniegowski

THE DAY IS YOURS Tayton Troidl

My whole life I could have lived without knowing.

Life would have gone on, fine and dandy.

We could have been normal, or normal enough.

The little “Hi, how’s it going.” Or “Hey, it’s been awhile.”

That would have been enough.

But no, You had to share the details, didn’t you?

Explain why.

Justify why.

Find an excuse Yep, sounds like you alright.

Thank you For starting off my day with that.

You have eclipsed this life.

The day is now yours And it’s all the lesser for it.

54

55

ISTANBUL WAS CONSTANTINOPLE Samuel Boczarski

PRINT AD

Cheryl Giancarlo

56

UNTITLED PACKAGING

Shelby Braidich

Bianca Gullotti

57

Rufus handled the remote control of his television to flip through apps on the Firestick. Jennifer relayed her username, then Rufus scanned through her photos.

She was exactly his type: Blonde with clear green eyes, Slender frame with freckles. She reminded him of his

Rufus said: “You’re very beautiful, Jen. How old are you?”

Jen replied: “Twenty-one.”

Now, Rufus was thirty-nine with a receding hairline,

CATFISH RUFUS Ashley Hardy

Dominique Davis

ex-wife but much younger.

STILL LIFE

“Do you have internet? I’ll send you my Instagram.”

stained smokers teeth and unemployed. He lived with his mother and step-dad in their attic.

Jen asked: Do you have a social media account?”

“Uh…” Rufus hesitated. He was certain that Jennifer would never be seen with a guy like him, so he created a new Facebook account. He snagged some photos from

A telephone, a remote control and the sound of raindrops…

Rufus sat with his back pressed against the headboard of his Sleep Number bed. For $2.99 a minute he was connected to a young lady who was leaving work at a local diner. In their backgrounds, the sound of raindrops poured heavily, the wind whipped into a piercing whistle.

The lady’s name was Jennifer and they entertained 58

each other with light-hearted banter and more serious discussions about their interests, accomplishments and life goals. Outside, Jennifer did not want to walk to the bus stop and stand in the impending storm, so she hailed a cab. Rufus heard her panting through the phone: “The weather’s getting worse. Be safe out there.

Anyway, so, whaddya look like?”

his younger, more successful and handsome brother’s page. He crossed his fingers for good luck then sent her the link. She was impressed and asked when they could meet up.

“Now…my address is…”

Jennifer instructed the cabbie of the new location.

Once up to the front steps, she knocked softly. His mother answered the door. She was surprised to find Rufus’s ex-wife standing there soaked.

“Barbara! C’mon in sweetie! Let me hang up your jacket. Are you hungry…”

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