claire sapan

Ode to My Oaf

Ode to My Oaf

On loving fully

You gallop toward me, tongue hanging sloppily out of your mouth, hair tousled by the harsh wind. With each stride you become more jubilant, beginning to zig-zag playfully through the gravelly sand. I laugh and follow you as you bound joyfully into the cold September air. You are faster than me, but you look back…

Soco Fernandez Garcia 22streetwalker22 color

Streetwalker

I pretend not to hear

A bead of sweat trickled down my freckled face, pausing a moment on my nose to sting the tender, burnt skin beneath it before plummeting to the pavement below. Waves of heat radiated from the gum-speckled concrete—the streets of New York City in the summer are prisons for heat, each slab holding sunrays captive. The…

ruth han an unplanned road spring weekend

an unPlanned road

silence, speech, and criticism

The alluring smell of freshly brewed coffee from Olga’s wafts by as I stride down the block, causing my stomach to churn with the grumbles and gurgles of lunchtime hunger.  Despite these incessant pleas, I do not stray from my path; the pride I feel overwhelms any pang of hunger and I march on.  Admittedly,…