Author:

Kaleidoscope of an Ending

“My perception of time is distinctly geometric: I trace the progression of years in counterclockwise circles that thicken like layers of pencil. I wish I could distinguish between them.”

by on

Everything will be okay: Full Design

Pick up a physical copy around campus, or view the full design here!

by on

Letter from the Editor

Dear dearest,   There’s a schoolyard question that goes something like: “Would you rather know how you are going to die, or when?” The question is perverse, with both options becoming increasingly tortuous the longer you think. It’s easy to … Read More

by on

Thoughts from my time sitting on the window sill of a castle in the Czech countryside

Is it better to not understand than to be misunderstood?

by on

Because We Were Girls Together

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons; I know the voices dying with a dying fall Beneath the music from a farther room.                So how should I presume?   (from The Love … Read More

by on

No machine

In lieu of goodbye I send a tiny house in the mail, flimsy porcelain talisman a weak barricade. Like Joni I become cellophane, no personal  defenses, the wrapper on a pack of cigarettes, the dirt on the road of your … Read More

by on

Liquidation

“That could be anyone, I think. The beach, the cliffs, the moon, just something with a voice that sounds like Margaret. The ocean could have picked up her accent and dissolved it, carried what I know as Margaret—black hair, sports bra, raspy voice—and released its latent sound into the cold wind, back to me. A lure.”

by on

Où sont les fleurs?

Distributing flowers at food banks is more than a frivolous act.

by on

houston texas

            after a letter about a friend               houston is warm and smooth and deep and dark and red. It is the feeling of holding a mug in two … Read More

by on

Falling Back

A Nass writer takes in the changing of the season.

by on

To Be Black Here

In the first weeks of the academic year, many Black Princeton students noticed that what little presence they expected from their demographic was even lower than they had imagined. Those students looked around and asked each other… “Where are all … Read More

by on

When blood is nipped and ways be foul

“She stood there, shuddering in place. She shook from the cold, from the fear, from the pain. She shook for what she had lost — something she knew could not be put back. For she now understood that Fear was not something lodged in her chest like shrapnel, but rather something that was taken away.”

by on