Friday 31 January 2014

Ungiven

by: Sofia Quaglia


That bonfire stuck between my bones like in a cage
Combusting my guts, like melting plastic without a frame.
Then my heart freezing cold just because of the rage,
when not even that ever got to get in the game.




A perfect picture, since only in my head
the pencil would have ruined it, have erased it,
I’m pale like crumpled up paper, I’ve fallen off my bed,
I’m wasted, but I haven’t even been used yet.




I wonder if flowers will grow out of these injuries,
listening to those redundant bells on the pavement.
Empty, I actually wish we were real enemies.
Only loving my self for both of us: enslavement.




I’ve left myself but from you I cannot get away,

In vain wish that you will listen, or I will stop to pray.

DARK SIDE

by Grace Oggero


           His back was facing her as she opened the door and stepped into the room. His tall lean figure was leaning up against the window, staring out at the skyline of the city, his city. She realized at that moment that he was the most beautiful person she had ever laid her eyes on, the city lights reflecting off his dark hair and his eyes the color of emeralds were full of emotion. She walked slowly towards him trying not to step on any loose boards that would make noise.
His mind was racing, trying to place everything that had happened in the last week. He looked down at the figures in the street below. They seemed so clueless, he thought. How could all the millions of people in the city not know anything about what was happening around them? It was so obvious, yet so invisible. All those people carried on with their lives while thousands of others were being killed everyday right under their feet.  He heard a creak, and his heart stopped. Somebody had found him. He slowly turned around to face the other person.

She knew he had heard her the minute she put her foot down. Damn. She wanted to get closer before she gave herself away, she might have been able to make out what he was feeling. She watched him turn his body so that they were facing each other. He was just as good looking as the last time she had seen them, the day of her friends wedding a week ago. They just stared at each other for a moment until he broke the silence,
"Jenna, hey."

She just stared at him, she still couldn't believe that he was here. It had only been a week, but a week was too long when the only person you actually loved disappeared.

"I missed you so much Ben." She said as the first of the tears started crawling down her cheeks. He took a step closer to her shaking body, he got as close as he could without touching her.
"I missed you too," he replied looking down at her, "Come on we need to go." He said, taking her hand and making his way to the door.

"What? No." Jenna responded shocked planting her small feet firmly on the floor, "I need answers Ben, you can't just show up after a week and expect me to do what you want me to!" He reached over and placed his big hands on her delicate cheeks before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on her lips. Looking into her eyes he realized how much he loved her. Everything about her. He couldn't believe that he had left her, alone, for a week.
"I need you to trust me Jen. I promise everything will be ok."


NOISY SILENCE

by Aimone  Pitacco



Getting into his house, exhausted after the fight he had with his friends.
Friends are like the flowers in the garden of life…
they grow, become beautiful, but one day, they die, you lose them.
His hand was scratching inside the pockets of his dark blue jacket to find and reach the keys to open the door; they were at the very bottom of the pocket that felt as deep as the ocean.
He took them to the door and opened it.
He walked up the stairs to his bedroom.
In the instant he got in, a wave of cold air touched him gently; the window was opened…His room, his beautiful room was upside down, everything was destroyed, the lamp, the chair that was in front of his lite brown desk, the pillows were broken and it’s leaves were still flying on top of his head and in front of his eyes as if they they were bird an the room was the sky.
All his work, all his life…everything was written on those papers…


LOOK BEYOND...

by Filiberto Musso

Look beyond...
It isn't only snow,
It is the whiteness of purity
And the coldness of love

Look beyond...
It isn't only fire,
It is the brightness of the soul
And the heat of passion

 Look beyond...
It isn't only wind,
It is the strength of human beings
And the force of living

Look beyond...
It isn't only light,
It is the spark of change
And the knowledge of minds

Look beyond...
It is only nature,
It is the complexity of life
And the beauty of birth

Look beyond...
It isn't only water,
It is the calmness of anger
And the transparency of feelings

Look beyond...
It isn't what there is,
It is what you see
And who you are.







THE SEASONS

by Romina Dichio



 The air is crisp
Red, orange, and brown
No animal exists
Different sounds
~
The snow lay on the ground
The sky shown bright
Silent sounds
And a beautiful sight
~
The sun poked out
The flowers bloomed
Not one pout
And bumblebees zoomed
~
Hot days
The sun shines
All happy and gay
The wonderful smell of pine

Oh the seasons


THE COLORS OF THE OCEAN

by Alessandra Scevola



There was once a girl who lived in the sea
She was smart, pretty and her soul was free
Her name was Aqua and loved the color blue
Although by looking around, it was the only one she knew

Aqua decided to go on a journey to see what she could find
To escape her boring home and leave that blue behind
She saw a cliff ahead and decided to go deep
Moving her tail until she heard someone weep

She looked around
To find the origin of that sound
But all she could see was black
Until she saw a bright light coming out of a crack

She moved towards it and followed the cries
Which grew bigger and bigger until she saw green eyes
What a beautiful color she thought, wanting to go near
Until a shining drop floated towards her, resembling a tear

Aqua asked those emerald eyes what had made them sad
Thinking that if she knew she could make them glad
The green eyes looked at her, big and round in shape
And said that they were tired of all this black and that they could not escape

She then had an idea that sprouted in her mind
And so she asked the eyes "want to come in this adventure of mine?"
The jade eyes agreed, still a little worried though
And before they knew it they were ready to go

After swimming upward for quite a while
They reached the blue ocean and traveled in style
The green eyes however weren't just that anymore
But a green colored fish that was ready to soar

Their next adventure took them far away
To the coral reef where they met a stingray
After a little chat Aqua asked for directions
And then observed the vivid colors of that other dimension

It was unlike anything they had ever seen
There was red, purple and all the colors in between
She had so many to choose from, she could not pick
So she asked for the fish's opinion, who gave one real quick

The fish said "why not have more than one?"
So she looked for some reasons against it and she found none
So she took out here clam diary, which was empty and new
And she wrote down three colors red green and blue

DARK

by Claire Kendell





It's gotten worse,
The darkness has nursed,
Every bad thing to life.

The street is of garbage,
There is so much today
I can't remember the last time I saw sage,
Every green thing has been slayed!

It has become dark,
There is no more lakes or plants,
Only bark,
With nothing left to see like ants.

The ocean virtually empty,
The fish are all gone,
The sharks are left tempting,
All left not done.

It has all become dark,
Filling the air with smoke,
Making shapes like an ark,
Filling the air with croaks.

The green-- where has it gone?
It should have been strong.
It should have resisted,
The darkness that was misted.
It is dark now,
Never light.


The mountains are all destroyed,
They are now valleys of animals bones,
Trapped forever
Cold.

It is all dark,
It is all dark,
Dark. 



TWO DIRECTIONS IN LIFE

by Ignazio Zanon 



Two ideas go different ways in my mind 
I cannot choose both
And being only one person, long I thought 
And thought about one as long as I could 
But I chose the other 
I hope it will be understood 

https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OoZHXmYYUUA/UuY9v-XsitI/AAAAAAAAACA/zxA_PGXkVwQ/s1600/flickr-4611424473-hd.jpg

HOME

by Valentina di Savino



The hustle and bustle of this foreign city 
The lights that fill my eyes
The traffic that shortens my life 
The cold that penetrates your bones 
The glory of European lifestyle 
But this isn't home 

I try to find peace within myself 
The desire to go home is stronger than I am 
I miss the peace and serenity 
I miss the warm wind in my hair 
I miss my home 

Home is where the heart is 
My heart was ripped out and kept there 
Maybe I've discovered the reason for my heartlessness 
I'm nothing but bare 

This isn't my home
It's not where my heart is 
I miss the clean air 

This isn't home 


https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LPoTInEaQjo/UuY8Hyosk5I/AAAAAAAAABo/3-f9xyplFsg/s1600/7496948068_bf20633dc7_o.jpg



Altruism?

by Luca Monnerjan 



The earth keeps spinning. Round and round, all the time. Wherever we are, whatever we do. It never stops. We don't even feel it spinning but it does, all the time. Although it sometimes feels to us, that we're standing still, we never do. And so does time. Time doesn't stop either, it never did and it never will. Everything we know and will ever know, was born, it lived and died. Like everything in this little world that seems so big to everyone. It seems so big, but it means nothing to the universe. Nothing we do is important in the end. Everything we do is for our own comfort in the end. Although we think it is not for ourselves, whenever you help someone it is also to comfort your conscience. Whenever you decide to not help someone it is for your own physical comfort. But we are so small in this endless seeming universe. Maybe it is not endless at all? Maybe it is just endless to us.

The Gaze, The Vision, The Sight

by Emily Teng                                                                                  


The gaze, people all directly turning to me. Thousands and millions of people I feel. My vision went blurry, my face is burning. The gaze seems like thousand miles of sunlight, the cheekbones sitting on my face lightening into dull red, and then bright red. The force of the gaze is pushing me down and down. At the end, I am pressed on the ground. My body sinking into the soil slowly. 'What a relief' I thought consciously closing my eyes.  

'You don't deserve! You don't earn!'  The screams and shouting went on for a longtime.   When I opened it again, the people had disappeared. Not only the people, the sand, the soil and stones all had turned, changed into liquid. I was floating. Why are the others all gone? 'Oh, probably because I'm different.' I probe my head into the water, the taste of salt came straight towards my tongue and down into my throat. The water is clear, clear enough that I sort of can see the bottom of it. Waves seemed to be pushing me up and down. A little voice mumbled beside my ear --- you're in the Atlantic Ocean! I was so frightened that I was splashing, flailing my legs as hard as possible. I tried to not move so I could keep afloat. 


The sun was slowly going down. The clouds painted the sky orange and then was sprayed with yellow. The sea level became clearer and clearer with the contrast of the sky. Birds flashing through the sky so fast that I could not see the true shape of them. After an hour, the view of the sea level darkened.  The whole environment around me magically grew pitch black. I was trying not to breath. Feeling alone, but I was glad that I escaped from the gaze of people. Suddenly, a tiny light came far away from the sea. It grew bigger and bigger.  When it came close enough to see its shape, I gazed at it for a long time. A huge ship made of blue metal wrapped with white lines, the side of it written- FREEDOM

And the clock ticks, tick, tick

by Agustina Molla 


Thinking, thinking and thinking about what I should write, but it seems like my imagination has come to an end like the exams. I'm so tired, I think I could fall asleep very easily. Everyone looks so concentrated and silent, and I can hear people drinking water and moving paper as they write their stories. So tired I couldn't even think, it's like the silence makes me even more tired. Looking at the clock makes it worse. It's like the time stopped. Looked again at the clock and finally one minute had passed. Can't think of anything...I'm blocked. The only thing in my mind is a picture of me on the couch skyping my friend and watching a movie...Looked at the clock again, 15 more minutes. In 15 minutes I could go outside, get in the car, get home and watch a movie... I just start daydreaming with my eyes wide open. Flashes of memories start coming to my mind. How happy was I when I went to Argentina, my friends, the pool, my family, the airport, and my friends again. I miss Argentina so much, I wish I could be there. It's summer there and it was so hot. Me in the pool with friends, I think I was the happiest person in the world, nothing mattered that day. It didn't matter if I had to come back to Italy. Everything that mattered was that I was there with my friends in the pool. That was it. Nike interrupts the flashes of memory telling me that in 3 minutes we would go home. How time works is something I'll never understand.



https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0LFP-bqF3zM/UuWJsoMZHzI/AAAAAAAAABQ/wZJ7u4Si8As/s1600/Eternal_clock.jpg

Swish

by Nike Klemmer 



The music was pounding in my ears as I changed into my basketball cloths. I slipped into my high ankle shoes but left the tying for later, like every time I had a game. Swedish House Mafias Greyhound was making my blood pump faster as I tied up my hair. It was early, and as I left the changing rooms I saw there wasn't anyone in the bleachers yet. I began walking the lengths of the court stretching my calves. The song switched and techno beat was blasting through my headphones. After a lap around the orange field, I chose a ball from the rack and let it roll around in my hands as I made my way to the three-point line. Bouncing the ball a couple of times, enjoying the feeling of the bumpy materials against my fingers, I crouch down, aimed and shot. Swish. I took out my headphones and packed away my iPod, forcing myself to focus solely on the game ahead. The empty gym echoes the sound of the ball thumping the gym floor. Dribbling through my legs I go up the free-shot line, aim and shoot. Swish. I smile to myself. Today was going to be a good game for me. I started stretching and when the first visitors started arriving I put the ball back on the rack. Sitting down against the cool, brick gym wall I tied up my shoelaces. The stuffing of the high tops molding my ankle and holding it tightly in place. The two different colored laces remind me of my first basketball game. My shoe lace had ripped and I had to borrow one from a friend. That day I had worn  neon orange and neon pink shoelaces. I shot my first three-pointer and my team won the game that day, and since then wearing two same colored shoelaces was out of question for me.


https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fXE6Wq3HmFI/UuWFGzAQxzI/AAAAAAAAAA8/4jR8m-eUiNk/s1600/basketball.jpg




Stormy day

by Pietro Barcellona

Today is a cold and stormy day like many days here in Torino. I love these days and this weather makes me feel at home. I like the winter weather much more that the summer weather, with the rain, the snow, the clouds and the greyness. I like dark colors like blue, grey, or black much more than red and yellow. I like some reds and yellows but not the very bright ones. I like the color of this desk very much. I don’t like how I am using “like” so much. I’ll change. Music is a big part of my life. I don’t know if I prefer visual or musical art. Certainly I am more talented at playing music than at drawing.

I can’t wait to go to the mountains and ski and go hiking with my dog. I would love to live in Switzerland. I wander what it would be like but I don’t think it would be boring like people say. Do I really like physics and math? Not as much as music for sure. I was never forced to play music but I was never forced to study physics either really. I am very fascinated by stars and the laws of physics. Explaining things with simple mathematical rules is just amazing. I wonder if one day we will be able to explain how the brain works using math. We are already pretty close as Santo explained. I wonder how the mister will imagine Santo. Basically quantum physics can be applied to masses using probability. Santo found a theorem to predict the income of movies and one to predict elections results. I wonder where he is now. He could be at Stanford or in Finland. I wouldn’t want to be like Santo. His life is too tough. I would like to mix Nando’s way of living and Santo’s, but I don’t think that’s possible. It will be Christmas soon. I’ll get my new pedals and I’ll have a lot of jamming with Olmo in Switzerland. Can’t wait for skiing. It will be a weird Christmas without my grandfather for the first time. He was the center of my father’s family. It’s like the main column of a temple collapsed and the temple barely managed not to collapse too. My father really loved him.





CHRIST IN THE STORM

by Edoardo CavagliĆ  

Alright. I’ll bring it over. Jason ended the call with a harsh “goodbye”. The Berlin haze started rising, covering my eyes and making tears fall from them. My suitcase weighed more than ever and I was anxious. The steps I made became continually wider. Leather shoes were not appropriate for a job like this, but I had to fit in the crowd. I felt like I finaly had a purpose, but as my excitement was rising, I knew I had to calm down and follow the procedure. The phone rang at 7:00 A.M as planned. The voice from the other end was unfamiliar to me.
“Put de case in de van and be shure you have de right one”. This was all he said to me. I knew the truck was supposed to stop in front of the cathedral but somehow it was 50 metres ahead, next to an abandoned construction. I reached the vehicle with my last breaths but the trunk was open already. Josh slowly reached for the suitcase: my job was done and yet I didn’t feel relieved at all. As Josh grabbed the suitcases, he stared deeply into my eyes, with a look of shame. Then, a sudden thump followed by a very disturbing whistle… 

The sunlight woke me up, and as I tried to sit up, my head started pulsing as it was going to explode in a short time. The window was right next to me so I opened it with great difficulty. As I was trying to understand where I was, in came a very young, pretty woman dressed in white. This female had a look, one of those looks that try to analyse you without having to speak to you. She wrote a couple of things on her notepad, then left. I was in a hospital. I used all my energies to sit up, and as I did, I noticed the same black van that caused me to be there. My heart started pounding but my thoughts were bright. I still had to remember why I was there and how I got injured. My mouth was as dry as sand so I felt relieved in sculling a plastic cup of water. I noticed my clothes on a leather chair in front of my bed. There was an envelope on top of them. I remember running, then falling to the ground. I was bleeding but couldn’t bother worrying about it. My purpose was greater than that. Finally I found the way to stand up. I didn’t know what I had to do, but I didn’t have much time left. As I grabbed my jacket, from the inside of it fell a rectangular canvas, upside down. It looked very old. I dressed up before picking it up, then I did. My eyes widened and I felt high for a second. I was holding a very old canvas, 381 years old exactly. The image was very familiar but I had no idea whatsoever of why I was holding it. It was Rembrandt’s  “Christ in the Storm”. The envelope, which I forgot about, was sitting on the chair. The address written on it must’ve been the one of the hospital. I opened without reading it. That’s when I realised I was in trouble. The simple phrase “get out of there or they will find you” made it clear that I had to go, and soon. As I shoved my feet in my leather shoes, I heard a loud knock on the door…

Cassie


by Anna Caporusso

I opened my eyes and turned my head towards the light which fell through the window and was burning my skin. The girl from last night was sitting next to me on my bed and her long red hair was hanging in bulky waves over her shoulders while she stared at the ground. 

"Cassie?"

Shocked, she stood up and turned around and tried to hide her face with her hands but I could see a tear running down her cheek which dripped onto my dark blue carpet. 

"What happened last night?" I asked her gently.

I could vaguely remember standing on the cliffs with the the dark forest behind me. Images of the deep sea sparkling in the bright light of the full moon appeared in my head. Cassie sat down again and smiled but her hypnotic green eyes remained serious betraying the smile. Her hand touched my face and her tiny, thin fingers caressed my chin. 

"You hit the ground and lost consciousness", she whispered to me.

"I hit the ground? Stop joking, tell me what happened last night?"

Horrible pain ran through my whole body as my voice became louder then Cassie started crying what seemed like thousands of tears each one dripping on to the blue carpet.

"Cassie, don't cry. Please. I'm sorry."



I wanted to to put my hand onto her head to calm her down and it broke my heart seeing her like this. 

"Don't touch me! Who do think you are?" She yelled and suddenly stopped crying, stood up quickly, went out of my small room slamming the white painted wooden door behind her. 


There I was, alone in my tiny bed, I couldn't remember the last night, and didn't know what to do. I put my head up, very slowly and tried to stand but it was impossible. My whole body ached, I felt paralysed and everything in my head was spinning. I decided to stay where I was and I closed my eyes. 

The next thing I knew, music started playing. Cassie's big green eyes were staring into mine. She put her thin arms around me and laughed, so happily, carefree like I'd never seen her before. Then she started dancing, spinning around and around. Her short black dress fluttered in the wind, her pale, white skin seemed like porcelain in the bright moonlight and her long, red hair danced and swayed with her body. I had to laugh too and I walked towards her and put my hands on her hips and danced. 
 
Bang! A loud noise woke me up. I jumped out of my bed immediately and hit the floor. Shocked I looked around and noticed that it must have been very late. I felt something cold and sharp and my arm started hurting. I stood up and looked out of the window. "Oh no" I thought as I stared at the of window of shattered glass.  Warm blood was running down my arms. The clouds outside moved and moonlight fell trough the broken window. I took one step backwards and hit my left foot on something big. It was a stone! I realised that someone had thrown a stone through my window! I sat down on my bed, my blood was dripping onto the floor. I bandaged my wounds and pulled my shirt off and pressed it into my arms. It didn't help.  I needed doctor but it was in the middle of the night. I was losing so  much blood. I needed to find my phone. Where was it? I stretched my hand out and fumbled for the light switch. Great, now the light doesn't work. 

"Is anyone out there?"

"Hello? IS ANYONE THERE?"

No answer. Okay I must find a way to get to the hospital! I grabbed my car keys and squinted my eyes and stood up. God! This pain! I pushed down the silver door knob.

"Stop. Where do you want to go?"


I turned abruptly at the sound of the voice. I knew this voice. I saw two naked feet on my windowsill. Cassie was jumping into my room. She stood on the shards of glass and they didn't seem to hurt her at all. I inspected her from bottom to top. She wasn't wearing shoes, her skinny black pants emphasised her long, thin legs. She wore a skinny top, which was also black and her red hair ran straight and covered  her shoulders.

"To the hospital" I replied curtly. 

 "Did you throw the stone?" I questioned.

"The front door was locked."

"Ah, okay. The front door was locked, so you smashed my window. Alright, that's fine."

She started smiling, her perfect, white teeth were shining in the moonlight. I didn't feel like smiling at the moment, I was still bleeding but there was something in that smile. It was magical.

"We have to go."

She was serious again.

"Yes we do. We've got to find a hospital."

"No, we haven't got enough time for a hospital at the moment. Just follow me."

She climbed on the windowsill and jumped outside into the woods. 

"Hurry up Dean, we don't have any time!"

Her voice already sounded far away. 

"Cassie!"

Nothing. I walked towards the window, the shards beneath my feet hurt. I put one foot onto the sill, then the other one and jumped out into the cold. The ground was wet but it felt good in contrast to the glass I felt before. Cold wind blew against my body. Damn, I was freezing! 

"Cassie?!"

I started running into the deep woods, shouting her name again and again. Suddenly she was standing right in front of me. Her face came close to my ear.

"Hurry up" she whispered with intent. 

She took my hand and started running again. We were getting faster and faster, I couldn't see anything around us anymore. It was strange, it felt like there was no gravity. I began to feel dizzy like I would lose control over my own body. The only thing I really noticed was her warm hand which was holding mine so tightly like she would never release it again. I remembered the dream I had last night, the way she laughed, her arms around me, her black dress. I felt like I had experienced it before but I still didn't know the end of the dream, I still didn't know what happened the night two days ago and now, now I didn't even know what I was running to. I seemed to know nothing neither about her nor about myself or what I did the last days. 

"Dean."

I heard  Cassie whisper my name, everything became slower, the trees around us were clear and I could see a light in front of us behind the last trees ahead of us. There was the cliff, the only thing that I could really remember. I was here two days ago. Cassie was still holding my hand and now she took my other hand. She looked at my bleeding arms.

"What are you doing?"

I didn't want to sound angry but it burned unbearably when her fingers touched my wounds.

"Shhhh be quiet."

I could not believe what I saw. The cuts were healing! The blood disappeared, my skin regenerated, without leaving any scarring. I stared at my arms, I was totally stunned. I wanted to say something, and I look looked up and saw Cassie who was staring straight in the eyes. A big wave of heat came over me and I couldn't do anything else than put my arms around her and pull her to my freezing body. She let me hold her in my arms, her face came closer, the green of her eyes stole my attention and were still staring at me. She softly pushed her lips onto my lips and I let her. But then she broke up and pressed her face against my shoulder. I tenderly stroked her hair and she started to cry.

"You are not a human, Cassie. What are you?"

She looked up and the green of her eyes was gone.

The sea of hope

By Luca Sandretto


         … He was almost about to wake up; but every time he dreamed of lions, it is meant it was a good dream and he wanted to keep sleeping. The boy got him a clean shirt and his old pair of trousers. When the old man finally woke up it was very late in the morning.
- “Today you slept very late, old man.”
-  “I dreamed that I caught an amazing marlin, I was alone, I frighted, but at the end the shark ate him.”
- “Today you can fish a catch a real marlin and the sharks won’t eat him.” 
- “I hope so, but my boat is “salao”, it is more than 80 days that I haven’t caught a fish, not even a small tuna; do you know what time is it? My watch is broken.”
- “It’s very late, hurry up old man, the marlin is waiting for you”
The boy gave him two sardines, and he carried the coiled lines, the harpoon, the gaff and the sail all the way to his skiff.  That day the old man looked so skinny that it seemed that he could not even walk from his shack down the road to his boat; but his legs were very powerful and he never gave up.
He placed everything in the appropriate place, and he got his oars; he was ready to row outside the port, but before he did he called Manolin:
- “Tonight, in my dream I wished you were there with me and that I haven’t hooked that fish.”
-“Bye old man, don’t regret anything you do, and remember you are way better than me.”
-“Bye Manolin, catch a big fish for me today.”
The old man rowed out of the port and the sun had already risen.  It was very late to go fishing; but that night the old man had had a great dream and it was worth sleeping for longer. The old man was tired of rowing so he opened the sail and since it was a windy day the boat went faster; and the old man lay down on the skiff. 
-“Oh old man,” he said talked to himself, “how great would it be if Manolin was here? You could take a nap while he was fishing.” “Don’t think about him, now he is fishing with another boat, and it’s better this way.”
The old man was desperate, he was tired, he wasn’t fishing and deep inside, he thought there were no fish left for him.
-“Probably I fished them all in the past, and now all the fishes are gone or there in other parts of the sea, far away; but Manolin fished, so some fish somewhere are left.” “Come on old man, some fish have to be down there, probably you are just in the wrong place.” The old man said to himself “Try to go south-east” 
The old man opened his sail and turned the skiff to face the south east, he sailed for a few hours, he didn’t know how long because his watch stopped working, but it seemed a long time.
The old man threw the line and he tied it to the side of the skiff, he was hopeless, he thought that the last fish he fished was the last one of his life.
-“Old man, probably you should retire, leave more space for the young.” but when he turned the line was taut and the old man said … “it’s over”,



Those Last Two Words

by B.B.



It all happened the Summer before third grade when I was eight years old. My parents had to work so we stayed home those holidays, home in Washington D.C. the city where I was born. I still remember everything about that Summer; the smells of smoke with a mixture of the perfume of flowers from peoples' backyards; I remember the traffic on a normal day of work, the light at night from the offices and the stars which shone so brightly.  

That same Summer a friend came to visit me from Italy with her family. I was so happy and I knew nothing could ruin that moment. This was a special moment as it was the last time I would see her for a long time because she was moving to Vancouver for her father's job. I was happy just like children are on Christmas day opening the gifts beneath the Christmas tree. That moment ended as I watched her take the plane to Vancouver. I knew I would see her again but I wondered when that would be, I knew it wouldn't be soon.

A couple of weeks later, I knew something was wrong just by looking at how my parents acted around me. They kept asking me if I was okay and they took me to my favorite restaurant in Washington D.C. They were really strange. You know how some people are when they want to tell you something but are nervous about how you will react. That was how my parents were acting that week, until ... It was a Saturday and as soon as I woke up my parents told me that they wanted to talk to me. Their faces were red and they looked like they were about to cry, I could sense it from the tone in their voices and the dullness in their eyes.

They brought me inside a room, it was dark in there because the curtains were covering the windows and the light was switched off. Although I could hear the sound of the cars, it wasn't too noisy as it was Saturday. I can still taste the smell in the air of that moment. It was a mixture of my sister's perfume and smelly socks. All I could think about was why my parents wanted to talk to me. Did I do something wrong? Why were they acting so nervously?

The more they waited to tell me, the more I worried. My palms were sweating and my eyes were blinking and I was scared like the moments just before an exam. Then I saw something moving, it was my mom's lips, she was talking but the only thing I heard were the last two words. Those last two words were so strong that it felt like someone had taken the room and spun it so fast that I felt like I was going to faint. My head was about to explode and my legs were about to buckle. Those last two words were repeating themselves over and over they were echoing from the ceiling and bouncing off the walls. Something struck me, I'm not sure what it was but it was powerful, like someone had punched me in the face, like they lined me up and just knocked me down ... I knew nothing would be the same ever again.

I was a child and nothing I thought about was important. I thought only about myself, just like every other eight year old does. Every year when the day comes around, in my head I hear the same two words ...shes gone.