As he neared the wharf dock, he could tell his uncle would be free. He didn’t know what time it was, but he guessed he’d got up sometime past noon and the market had by now wound down completely. He hoped his uncle was still there, as the only people who usually stuck around were […]
I do not scream (on demand) unless I am dropped. Do not drop me; you’d never; I am never dropped. The sad mess is I waddle. I’m not, except the hot smell, but, no, never dropped. I lift the pasta, slap it on my head! My teeth! none. My smile then! Woosh!: I rocket my […]
by Tyler Collison In the honeymoon period of what was unarguably the greatest single-game performance in Olympics history, the engine driving the debate of who would win a head-to-head matchup between the United States’ two “Dream Teams” — those of 1992 and 2012 — has received an oil change. But before I get too far into things, […]
Films tend to lean left because they put a face on the human condition, and thus make it harder for those who feel that the disenfranchised and those who are different should be left out in the cold. It’s an emotional medium, which wants us to understand a character and situation that may or may […]
Lucky for us, popular culture does not need to be affirmed or denied. It’s happening, and you and I, as members of the populace, are in it. This is not to say that there are not all sorts of ways to bargain with our position, en masse or otherwise. But this is to say that […]
Consumption of The Autobiographical Novel Justin Torres’ We the Animals is an admittedly autobiographical novel. Torres takes advantage of fiction’s freedoms as he pays attention to the careful placement of each object in each room. Like a doll’s house, it is the perfect replication of an image, a created memory. The reader is allowed […]
by Tyler Collison 1 The day’s focus was plyometrics—jump training. For roughly twenty minutes at the end of every volleyball practice, we would systematically hop around like frogs and one-legged kangaroos. In the matches prior to the discussed day, though, we hadn’t been “doing somethings amazing,” as our Romanian coach, Radu, would so adamantly and […]
by lewis levenberg Mornings ride higher when their dull cacophanies remain muffled. At least, the sounds of waking, when they fail to rouse you, seem sweeter: think garbage trucks. Your neighbor’s alarm clock beckons, rude chirp and rattle, unless it finds barrier in wall, door, pillow. Sleeping late, though no self-sustained reward, requires quiet, but […]
