the delightful ever changing of seasons [narrative]
By Gabrielle Yuan | February 28Autumn
Autumn
Did you transfer here midyear and feel so utterly alone? Do you hang out with people that you enjoy, but at the same time feel that nobody truly knows you? There’s a difference between meeting and knowing people. Every day, you introduce yourself and go through the list: name, year, pronouns, and ...
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If one had to summarize all of menswear—its ups and downs, bell bottoms, shin huggers, and oxford bags—into an essential fabric, it would have to be tweed. Hailing from the frosty and unforgiving weather of Northern Europe, tweed has become and remains the most versatile, nostalgic fabric one can ...
As my mom reads off every name, my sister and I try our hardest to commit them to memory. We are six and eight years old, excitedly staring at the family tree in front of us. It is astonishing and extensive, with some very familiar names and others that I have only heard of as characters from my parents’ ...
My Sunday school teacher used to tell me that God hears all our prayers. She said that sometimes God even responds to you, and in these instances, you can feel his presence in your body or hear his voice in your head. So every Sunday, when Father Fox gave us a few minutes to pray silently, I would do ...
After coming to Providence, my cosmic "I" turned atomic. It happened when I started to say goodbye to my grandmother and when my younger brother went on his first date. My life started to look like a page of words I couldn't read.
We’re all wrapped together under a blanket on an air mattress that’s too small for us. She’s in the middle and my head is on her shoulder. Your head is on her other one. The three of us all have dark brown curly hair and now our curls spill seamlessly onto the pillows. You’re talking about your ...
“It is women who love horror. Gloat over it. Feed over it. Are nourished by it. Shudder and cling and cry out and come back for more.” – Bela Lugosi
“I am a product of Nollywood and my loyalty remains unshaken.” -Genevieve Nnaji
I didn’t come to college intending to buy a gecko, and yet there I was in the Providence Petco on my eighteenth birthday, looking at potential terrariums for the future third resident of my Keeney double.
As you sit tucked in the hidden nooks around campus, nestled on a bench with a hot chai latte in hand, you can’t help but look up from your work and take in all of the unfamiliar faces—the crowds of students walking to their morning class or racing to the Blue Room.
My feet swing under the chipped wooden table. I soak in the smell of sizzling tomato sauce. My grandmother’s hands—soft from Pond’s hand lotion but aged from years of hot oil splashes—are a blur. I watch her float from oven to stove, guiding raw ingredients into a meal. Unwashed vegetables, ...
When I’m nervous, my therapist tells me to try to find each color of the rainbow. To find them in my environment, and to find them in order. She says the rainbow will appear in the amount of time it takes to calm myself down. To breathe. To see all the colors again in full, in combination. In beauty ...
Dearest Mathematics,