Fiction
by Eleanor Peters '20
The snow crunched beneath the worn, muddy soles of her boots, and a trailing shoelace tousled the edges of half-covered leaves. The dog was sitting at the mouth of the culvert, ears alert and fur rumpled and raised on his hackles. The woman could hear him growling, a low, grumbling sound, like the motor of an old car.
There was a body on the ground.
by Emily Khym '23
All she heard was darkness.
by Amelia Rinaldi '23
No shadows follow the heavy figure towering over the woman with wrists and ankles that almost disappear into the tile below.
by Nathan Ko '23
It was autumn in New York, a demanding season between the cacophony of summer and the excuses of winter, an exhausting season no man should ever face.
Janus Yuen '21
"Fundamental" Michelle Park '20
Narrative
by Timmy Sullivan '22
The Mamaroneck player, menacing behind the cold, metal bars of his face mask, glared at my captain with a grin as wide as a coastal horizon.
Nonfiction
by Kennedy Anderson '21
This got me thinking: if I deliberately avoided ordering Chick-fil-A for dinner, yet I helped myself to a handful of Oreos for dorm snack, and I later ended a long night of studying with a L’Oréal face mask, wouldn’t my ethics be inconsistent?