Kick in the Head

by Mack Muldofsky
I have always had a bittersweet relationship with sports. Physically, I’m slow, I’m nearsighted, and I have no stamina. But sports is about more than the body. It is also about the mind. My mind was also bad at sports.

Don’t Fly Away, Paloma

by Sophie McNulty
I glance at my room from my bed and receive an indistinct image, as I rest here contemplating the complications I must confront. My life once was simple; lacking crisis and degeneracy, however in the past few weeks these qualities I had assumed a reality disappeared abruptly. I sigh, bury my head into my pillow and weep silently.

Skipping Stones

by Ana Henry
I promised my father
(when I was twelve, on
the cusp of something
unknown to both of us)
that I would learn how.

Not Finding Words

by Rebecca Shubert

No one had ever before suspected that emotions had flavors—I mean, that you could literally taste them on your taste buds. The scientists responsible didn’t like to admit it, but the earth-shattering discovery was kind of an accident.

Crashing Together

by Olivia Stein

The car is spinning, and I can’t do anything to stop her screaming. Her scarf swipes my eyes, a burst of red and blue. “Oh my god!” she screams, her voice one million daggers. Her herbal tea splashes my denim legs, the smell of passion fruit wafting up to meet my nose.

double face

by Altana

the clicking
of computer keys
is what passes
for speaking
these days.

Sticks and Stones

by Altana

people tell me
sticks and stones
may break
my bones
but names
will never hurt me.

All I Want

by Nora Claire Miller

All I Want
1.
you need to understand that
i once read a poem and the poet wanted
skinned knees and springtime.
all i want is absolution.

Nicky

by Carly Sorenson

When I met Nicky she was wearing a wig, a black, tangled mop with streaks of orange glitter. I guessed that that was her costume; we were at a Halloween party, after all.

Pieces

by Isabella Giovannini

The hallway has rough, white walls and big windows made of little glass squares. The glass makes the green trees outside look a little bit like how I saw when I tasted Dad’s drink.
Why didn’t Dad come with me? I don’t like this tan nurse in tan clothes.

Good Thing Going

by Drew Arnum

It’s amazing what I would do for Stephen Sondheim. It all started on the ferry at midday on the Friday of Labor Day weekend. Hurricane Earl was headed our way, but my dad and I simply had to go and see Merrily We Roll Along on Fire Island.

Francophilia

by Lauren Crawford

There is an expression in French that hints at the indefinable. It flows off the tongue at a rhythmic pace- je ne sais quoi- je ne sais quoi, je NE sais QUOI; the seductive tone of the French language already seems to indicate what the words themselves mean.