Minnetonka High School Issue 4: Winter 2020/2021
MUSE Magazine 2020 Editors: Mahdi Khamseh and Scott Sorensen Advised by Stuart Pease All works featured are original contributions from Minnetonka High School students. Powered by Lucidpress
CONTENTS
Poetry and Short Stories Katie Garner Mahdi Khamseh Zhou Benson Scott Sorensen Aymara Johnson Jacob Bragg Music Alex Colmenares Visual Art Inara Zayic Ishbel Ligthart Kayla Stevenson Lena Pak Hollie Graber
Page(s) 5-8 9-15 16-17 18-22 23-31 32-38 39 40-42 43-49 50-56 57-58 59-61
Freshman
Katie Garner
Sweet Maisie went one autumn day For water from the well, But water she did never fetch; Her story now I’ll tell. Sweet Maisie walked up to the well, But something caught her eye; For something moved between the trees Atop a hill up high. Her curiosity was piqued, So Maisie, she did hie On through the wood and up the hill To see what she could see. And at the bottom of the hill, A small lake Maisie found: A strange girl sat there on a rock All cloaked in wat’ry shroud. So to the lake sweet Maisie ran And called out o’er the waves: “I’m Maisie sweet; what are you called?” “Why, Poppy is my name.”
Sweet Maisie’s mum and dad, they did Try keep her safe inside, But every weekend, without fail She snuck out, though they tried. Sweet Maisie’d go out to the lake And meet with Poppy there, And come back with feathers and leaves All tangled in her hair. One day, at dusk, they watched the sun Glow gold behind the firs, And Maisie then leaned over and Touched Poppy’s lips to hers. So Maisie came back into town, A stranger in her house; With flowers tucked in pockets of Her now all tattered blouse. The air, it chilled, as winter came, And Poppy said one day, “I must go soon, o Maisie dear, Through winter I can’t stay.”
“Then Poppy, could you tell me if One day you will return?” Sweet Maisie asked her lover there Out in the evening woods. “When autumn comes, I always go Back to these peaceful lands, But I don’t know if I can find This same town once again.” Sweet Maisie asked, “Then Poppy, could You take me when you leave?” “I would, but you are mortal, dear, And mortal you shall be.” So Maisie came back into town, They say she’d danced with ghosts; The rumor was that she had sailed To strange and eerie coasts. Sweet Maisie went out to the woods Beneath the morning sun, She laid out candles and smooth bowls ‘Round one drop of her blood.
Sweet Maisie, she did sell her soul On one fine autumn day So that they were not kept apart By Maisie’s human state. When Maisie told her what she’d done, The lake girl stood in shock. The rash choice could not be reversed, But Poppy thought and thought. Then Poppy went down to Hell’s gates And there the Devil sat, So Poppy bargained hard with him Until she made a pact. Each autumn, leaves of trees on Earth Would lose their verdant sheen; The color would fall down to Hell And cool those fires to green. So in exchange, the Devil freed Sweet Maisie’s hostage soul; And Poppy came back to the Earth As started the first snow.
So Poppy met sweet Maisie there And as winter began, No longer separate, left the woods Together hand in hand.
Mahdi Khamseh
Sophomore
I remember the day I fell, the day I saw you as you stood, your eyes gracefully staring at me My cheeks, blushing, like the fruit which you ripened I remember the way you pulled my heart and ripped the very breath in my lungs, only to replace i with your sweet, and tender kisses I remember how passion overtook me, as the wine dripped from your lips and your heavy breath drowned me like an ocean’s tide Pulling me to depths I had not seen before, pulling me to a place, of eternal and mysterious light A place where it was only you and me, together, violently kissing, quickly, as to pass the breath over and over, back and forth to not suffocate in the dryness of the breath, but to submerge in the wetness of our love
My lips lay upon you Like the breath of dawn Upon the blanket of the night Words ebbed from your succulent lips Yet I could not contain, the emotions I had prisoned in the darkest of caves Your hands climbed up my body like the slithering of a snake As I hesitantly froze in sight, unable to move, for I had too much poison to add more Oh devil, how foolish am I to let you dwell next to me, cheek upon cheek? But I have become your slave, drunken in your mischievous wine But before the night falls upon, the pool of daylight sin And the winds suffocate in their breath Before the candle has burned And our cauldron remains filled, like the blessed stars upon the sky
I lay my hands upon your mouth, shunning the spring from the flow of words For silence be my beloved! I can hear your calls, yet find you not in the light of day! Close your eyes, let your words be gone, and let the darkness find its way For I will find you No matter the state of cause or the existence within me I will be with you My lips upon yours And the time we seek for, a distant dream I shall grasp onto your face, tightly, like the forces which bind the sky in place
I will whisper quietly into your ear And you into mine As we spill secrets of a thousand sins As I plunge myself, in every corner of your existence In the beating of your heart I will take you to the Mars I talk of as you take me to the oceans where you dream Hence nothing can change the course of this love For long be it wine In the kisses we kiss In blood we swim in
Autumn leaves, take me away to my Beloved For your winds blow the singing of my Love How can I resist such a song which makes me cry? For unlike you, I am not free. Bring me Her tears and send my blessings Make sure She sleeps soundly upon your soothing calls If I don’t see Her anymore, say my goodbyes For Her love has taken away my voice. Oh Autumn leaves, tell me, do you get lonely too? As you traverse upon fellow lovers and pure hearts Tell me, do you think She loves me too? Or must I suffer all alone? Don’t bring upon Her any harm or wrong doing For it was my fault, I should have known That love always leaves lovers When the glass of wine has been shared. Autumn leaves, tell me, what does She do, when She’s all alone and not a soul is to be found?
I hope She is free and restless For I am hidden upon a thousand veils When Her head rests upon her bed, and Her soft and delicate eyes gently close, just look at Her majestic face, yet do not, tell me, for I will tear up the sky. Autumn leaves, tell me, have you kissed your beloved, when your soul painfully cries? Or do you dream like me, as I lay, swimming in an ocean of quiet solitude? Have you ever loved so deeply that you have not the will to stand? Everywhere you try to touch Your body rattles in pain. Autumn leaves, do I have to die all alone, or is there any hope for me? It’s ok, go ahead and say it For I am already upon my knees.
I pull my hair in madness As the beating of my heart soars into a wild state Bring me the sound of Her heart For that way, I may sleep again. Autumn leaves, enough is enough I tell you, for there is not a wall I have not gone upon! Every night I wait to see Her beautiful eyes As I pull the sheets of dusk to dawn. Why won’t She love me or see that I am here? As I am dead even as I live What must it take for me to breathe again, even as I drown in an ocean of pain? Autumn leaves, I am slowly fading away For not a thought goes upon my head As I leave Her mind and my seconds tick away, blow me an image of Her beautiful face.
The World and Beyond
Junior
Zhou Benson
Where does the day go? In the blink of an eye the sky seems to have to say goodbye. Who knew our world full of wonders would be so spontaneous. Remembering that the next day will never be the same. From dusk till dawn our lives will have to go on. The wind whistles through the trees. With a breeze, driving down the road as I please. The stars at night... What a marvelous sight! What stories lie within our skies? What truths do our stars hide? Our life’s stories shall be written in the stars. Fate and destiny will get you far.
Even when you don’t think you know who you are They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. That the world is held in the palms of our hands. The world is a magical place. As we strive to make room for the new and unheard of. We may never know what lies ahead. Thus we must be grateful for the dreams we build upon in our heads and while sleeping in our beds. I leave you all with that. The wonders of the world which are so wonderful and true. Life is so profound with us humans around. Made to astound from all around. On earth and beyond.
Scott Sorensen
I was a single deft Miscalculation. I swirled and bubbled in the throes Of yet another dying sunlight crush, And her mind wandered along the line Where the clouds cut off, That ceiling that housed half the world but left her idle brain Exposed to the emergent stars. Shadows fell from the trees and Swelled up with the mass of all the world, Dense and set to drown In her deep black eyes, Yet her footfalls remained constant As a dreamer's slumbering breath. And she moved like a locomotive on ice, Churning and billowing madly but gliding More with the momentum of the moment Than due to any force of will. She lifted not a lip To my questions, Nor did she falter At the gods splayed along the horizon Beckoning her to endless life; She
She said not a word until the sun finally set And there was nothing more That she wanted to see. I was dismissed.
I get trapped in my own voice And the comfort of cliches And the way they roll their eyes and chuckle, That's just Scott, Before proceeding to talk about some being Who's a little less static than A needy cartoon character. I scramble out the window and toss A roll of toilet paper and jot down Some notes about the sky and say I'm different Before I climb into bed and balk at the tune Of sealed lips. I fell asleep to Guster Again. My music taste is fully anchored to the songs That my parents rocked me to sleep with Because I still can't Tuck myself in at night. Here, Wrapped in pity, fear and insomnia, Church bells toll once for the lucid dreamer Strung out sleepless in the bleachers,
And once as the choir Marches out into the snow. In the resounding silence Of a palace popped and drained Of sound, I stay in my seat and wonder If anyone can hear me singing.
I have known anxiety, depression and fear All as passing strangers In the creeping hours during which my soul endeavored To rest. I never knew them as she did, Sterilized and locked in at night for months Before returning home to hang portraits at the head of her bed And trace circles On her lilac sheets. I knew comfort to sing lullabies As I laid sleepless and scared; I had a list of songs that felt like home When fingernails scarred my chest And the clock ticked on with the scorching indifference Of a master to be served. But she bunked with fear Every night after she disappeared. My mind ran about her each day That hers was cracked open, Spilled on the floor and rearranged, As if her psyche could be fixed Like a common kitchen pantry. She starved and melted in broad daylight in a way No nightstand mental illness could ever understand.
A small animal barreled through, Scraping, smashing the undergrowth, The crashing ripples dampened the sound, Even as it arrived at the origin, All that could be heard, The continuous current, Simultaneously silent and blaringly loud, Any sense of reality slashed away, With a slow methodical hand Looking down into the mirror, The shifting chameleon figure that appeared, A wish or but a delusion, That stretched oozing limbs, Continuing to disfigure itself, As it grew in every dimension, The animal’s recognizable reflection, Replaced with needle blades and one way scales, It grabbed out at the creature, A desperate effort to anchor itself, As everything began to blur,
Aymara Johnson
Creating a presence, Too demanding to be ignored, A hope, a dream, something more, It pulled and yanked, And it’s muscles started to sway The pull tugging harder as it drifted, Unable to stop its intoxicated motion forwards Then with a crack, the connection severed, The long tendrils withdrawing, Merging, snapping back into the main shape, Which in turn fell downwards, Three dimensions turned to two which became nothing at all, A ripple in the water, A small splash but a single loose thread, On the repetitive, hackneyed tapestry which hung on the wall, And all that was left was a small animal, Just staring at its reflection, Only a notion resting on the pond.
The man stood motionless, Calm at the edge of the crevasse, Charmed by its stature, He stood as it softened, So the downpour kept tugging, And he smiled as it crumbled away.
He solidified his grip on his walking stick, as he surveyed the woods before him. As many a hiker could tell you, a walking stick is an object which proudly displays its history on its surface. Oscar had hand carved his from an oak branch with an old pocket knife only two hours before. However, its four foot length had already picked up more dirt than most would within their entire lifetimes. One section was partially severed, due to a heated duel with a plastic lightsaber. But his goals had now grown beyond those petty childhood struggles, and Oscar was ready for exploration. He had trod this path before, but this time his goal was different, as he sought to map the path from the house to his fort, nestled deep away in the forest. It would doubtlessly be a long and perilous journey, with the river and the hills, that had many a time caused him to change directions before his destination. But today he was ready to depart as the sun drew closer to the center of the sky. He knew he could succeed before bedtime. So, Oscar glanced around one more time and began walking, paper and crayon in hand, his many pocketed vest zipped, and his knee high rain boots on. The start of his path had already been mapped from memory, which may not have been the most professional method, but Oscar believed it wouldn’t be a problem at the moment. The trees rose around him, quickly obscuring the entrance, not due to being close together, but because of the large amount of undergrowth and fallen logs. The majority of the wood was made up of old oaks, sprouting outwards at odd angles, and traveling high into the sky before their branches began to emerge. Oscar wasn’t fazed by the beauty around him and continued to push onwards.
The undergrowth and plants eventually faded out, revealing the twisting roots which surfaced far from their bases. Even further on, the plants increased in height again, brush replaced by youthful maple trees (if the definition of trees encompasses those less than a foot in height). After another section of travel, the ground sharply jutted downwards, creating a valley. A wash of water wrapped around the deepest point. If Oscar had been less prepared, this might have halted his journey. Many a wilderness book had impressed upon him the danger of moving water, and he wasn’t one to disregard a warning such as that. However, a sturdy fallen log had recently been adjusted into a bridge, around six feet in length. If one trusted their balance, it could be crossed with relative ease. Before crossing, Oscar sat down on a stump and pulled out a marker from his green vest. With a few quick swipes, he added the water and bridge, as well as a scribbled, loosely spelled note that even his first grade teacher would have had trouble deciphering. However, it got the point across, and Oscar was on a schedule. After the basic locations were mapped out, it’d barely be a trifle to redraw it in a more attractive manner. So, balancing carefully, he scurried across the bridge. Planting himself firmly in the ground at the end of the plank. The sounds of cars driving and kids yelling became increasingly dampened, with the volume of each of Oscar’s own footsteps seemingly increasing to balance out the noise. He couldn’t help but glance behind him, just to ensure nothing unknown was there. Of course, all that lay behind him were the trees, and nothing living, with the
exception of a chickadee curiously observing him. As there was no legitimate reason to be frightened, he steeled himself and continued onwards, following the length of the stream upwards toward its source. The sound of birds chatting loudly assured him that all was safe. But each pause in their conversation involuntarily caused his heartbeat to revolt against its rhythm, before diminishing once again as soon as the calls resumed. The barely visible path took several further turns away from the stream, over small hills and back down to the same level, before turning towards the stream once again. Each one of these sections were, of course, noted, along with, to prevent any possible error, the cardinal direction stated on his bright yellow whistle. After the final section, just past the huge willow tree with the rope ladder, Oscar finally spotted the pond on which his fort had been built. Unfortunately, a mess of a web reached around quite a bit of the pond's perimeter, which prevented him from taking the simple path. The branches within the bramble cast a sinister shadow, thorn filled with sharp edges. As he glanced around at the area before him, a small rustling sound fractured the silence. Oscar spun around, his heartbeat suddenly throwing itself desperately against his rib cage, over and over again. It must have come from the opposite side of the stream, but the sun was just high enough in the sky to completely obscure anything below the oaks branches. The tree trunks were barely adumbrated, with the majority swallowed in shadow. Oscar swallowed, trying to continue with his task calmly. Despite his effort, he couldn’t hold his hand steady as he drew in the brambles with chaotic red swirls. The wind seemed to rush just a touch cooler, skipping down his arms and across his face, leaving a contrasting cool wake. He yanked his walking stick out of the mud where he had stabbed it upright.
Everything was silent. He hadn’t heard another sound since that rustle. Logically, Oscar knew there wasn’t a large risk of animal attacks in this specific area. But his mind couldn’t be prevented from conjuring up images of huge cats in the trees, or maybe on the ground, invisible, unmoving, ready to pounce. With huge bared teeth and yellow eyes locked onto him. Oscar couldn’t fight the urge anymore. He burst into motion, tripping over his feet as he charged around the bramble’s edge. Small sticks and plants sliced their sharp edges across his skin, causing sudden pricks of pain. Each footstep echoed through the ground, banging and clattering like off beat percussion. Echoing and bouncing against the silence in every direction. He slipped around the corner. His blue rain boots dug into the mud, slowing his speed significantly. Each step weighing down into the soil and fiercely resisting the upwards pull. The reassuring image of his camp came into view. Despite the uneven ground and his panic, Oscar had been here many a time before, and knew exactly where to place his feet as he dashed towards the large shelter made of fallen branches dragged up against the side of the tree, and covered with a blue tarp. The inside of the structure was dark, and not quite as cleanly as he had originally hoped upon its construction. The bark was slightly peeling inwards, the ground was still damp, and sticks still stuck out of the logs at awkward angles. But Oscar wasn’t thinking of those factors as he dived into the corner and pulled his knees up to his chest, and pushed his backpack against the wall. All of his efforts were focused on staying still, but his heartbeat kept shaking his entire form. The uncomfortable position of his foot began slowly draining it of feeling, but Oscar knew moving would
make too much noise. This hadn’t been in any of his survival books, but he was sure it was the truth. So, as he sat, his gaze frantically glancing around outside, scanning for any signs of motion. Through the opening he could see the familiar shapes, but still, so much was obscured by the sun’s positioning. Anything could be there, and Oscar would have no idea. He could have sat there for thirty minutes, as he would have insisted had anyone asked of his plight, but more likely it was for less than three. Eventually his heartbeat began to slow, as the sun slowly changed angles. Its movement shifted the shadows off of the camp, and revealed each dark nook. After letting himself calm down just a bit more, Oscar grabbed his walking stick. He pushed the end into the dirt, using the motion to pull himself to his feet. Stepping forward, he surveyed his camp. Now that the scare had passed, he was unsure what had caused him to flee. He had doubtlessly read enough survival books to be able to resist most animal attacks, so even if something had appeared, Oscar would have been prepared. Thankfully, despite the mishap that had radically shortened the last bit of his travel, not much detail on his map had been skipped over. If necessary, he could always go review the last few angles to ensure they were accurate. He walked over to his table, a large rock with a flat enough top to be used for this purpose, and carefully laid out the last of the details. The need for a good map can not be overstated. In a woods such as this one someone could easily become lost if following only verbal instructions. Even memory couldn’t always be trusted. But if one had a map, such as the one he had painstakingly sketched on a piece of construction paper with crayon and marker, safety was assured.
Oscar carefully wrote the date at the bottom of the map, signed it in his professional black marker, folded it up, and placed it into the side pouch of his red waterproof backpack.
Jacob Bragg
“Ouch! What was that for?” Adina furiously questioned after her brother threw a small rock at her. They were relaxing with their parents on Venice Beach, and apparently Aiden had had enough of sitting around, he desperately needed some entertainment and commotion. Adina told herself not to react further to Aiden after he simply laughed at his behavior. Their mother interceded by holding out a twenty dollar bill and telling them to buy something cold. The temperature was a scorching 95 degrees. They gladly obliged and Adina leapt up and took the money. The two wandered over to the crowded boardwalk and aimlessly walked around, passing all of the vendors and shops. Adina suddenly stopped outside of a little clothing store as she shouted, “Aiden! Look at this place, isn’t it fun? I need to go in here.” Aiden rolled his eyes. “Look,” she pointed, “there’s a shaved ice place over there, go wait in line. I’ll have strawberry please.” Adina was older than her brother, so although he often annoyed her, she always ended up having authority over him. As she walked into the clothing store she was kindly greeted by the worker at the front desk as well as the loud and upbeat music that was playing throughout the store. The cool air conditioning immediately refreshed her. She moved steadily around the store, glancing at the racks of flip flops, swimsuits, t-shirts, dresses, and a big wall of skateboards. As Adina was noticing what types of skateboards the store carried, a group of teenagers came into the shop wearing swimsuits and holding skateboards of their own, and the music was nearly silenced by the bursts of laughter coming from the group. This free-spirited, beachy, and adventurous atmosphere of California was infectious, and it contributed to the desire Adina had for moving there when she gets older. Adina was an aspiring actress, and although many see acting as an unconventional goal, she had actually made substantial progress towards it. She appeared in a few commercials and got a small role in a movie that was filmed in her hometown.
Adina started to zone out, staring at a swimsuit, thinking about her future. She felt something or someone softly touch her shoulder, but the touch wasn’t enough to pull her out of the world her thoughts were in. “Sweetie?” the worker asked with a bit of concern, after she didn’t respond. Adina was startled, and she slightly flinched. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she exclaimed. “If you need help finding anything, just let me know. We have a little fitting room over there to the left if you need it,” she pointed. “Thanks.” Adina turned around towards the front of the store and she noticed that Aiden was finally approaching the shaved ice stand. After waiting in line for a long time, he would soon be done ordering. She started wandering back outside into the burning heat when she saw someone entering the store. This person had a very familiar body shape and hair color. As she got progressively closer to the woman, the familiarity grew. She recognized her, but she didn’t quite know who she was. After staring at the woman for a few seconds, Adina had a sudden realization of who the lady was. It caused her to accidentally bump into one of the laughing teenagers as her gaze was fixed on the lady rather than where she was walking. Almost tripping over her own shoes as well, she nearly fell to the ground. The teenagers just kept on laughing, despite her distractedness. The powerful, majestic voice of the woman entering the room was one that Adina could never miss. She knew it was the voice of one of her favorite actresses: Maria Laborda. She had seen all of the movies and shows Maria had been in. Undetermined on how to react, Adina stopped in the middle of the store and hid behind a section of sandals. She had practically grown up with Maria, but this moment was too surreal and nerve wracking, so she started feeling a tightness in her throat and her palms started becoming sweaty. Should she just ask for a picture with her? Should she ask for a hug? Should she
tell her how much her work meant to her? It looked like Maria was with a friend so Adina thought that would make it even more awkward to approach her. Maria and her friend moved gracefully to the coverups section, which was only a few feet away from where Adina was hiding. The giggles coming from Maria sounded much more authentic and spontaneous than the laughter coming from the group of teenagers, which was starting to sound voluntary and forced. After a minute of hesitation, Adina finally decided that she would walk up to Maria with her phone in her hand and attempt to ask for a picture with the moviestar. So she rounded the corner of the rack of sandals and inched towards Maria, who was having a conversation with her friend. Adina tried to interject into the conversation with an “excuse me”. Adina figured it was likely the two were more than friends because the guy put his arm around Maria. This surprised Adina because she had no knowledge of Maria having a boyfriend. The couple were so deep in affection and giggling that they didn’t notice that Adina was standing right behind them, so Adina tried to say “excuse me” a little louder. Frustratingly, her nerves had a tight grip on her vocal cords, pulling her voice back like an unfair game of tug-of-war. The words came out barely louder than a whisper. Adina panicked. The moment became too stressful. She contemplated simply turning around and coming back at a better time, but Maria looked like she was beginning to turn in Adina’s direction, so Adina lifted her phone to about shoulder height and leaned her body forward to tap her on the shoulder. She felt overjoyed to be able to get a picture with such a talented woman. A smile began to form on Adina’s face as Maria turned around, but she was too excited to realize her smile wasn’t being returned. Her mind was defunct. She wasn’t thinking straight. She didn’t even say “hi” before lifting the phone up further, anticipating a selfie.
“Could I get a picture with you?” she asked, looking at the screen of her phone rather than Maria. “You’re like my--” Maria took her hand and grabbed the phone and forcefully pushed it down to Adina’s side so no picture would be taken. Maria’s face became slightly red, due to either embarrassment or anger, or possibly both. While Adina’s face became paler than it had already been, and her hands were shaking. “No,” Maria said tersely. She dropped her head to the floor, then turned back to the guy she was with, wanting to deflect from the situation. Adina decided not to say anything more, but she couldn’t anyways, because she was in shock. Never would she have expected one of her favorite celebrities to act with such neglect. Did she approach her too aggressively? Why didn’t she want her picture taken? She backed away and exited the store as fast as she could, trying to hold back tears. Aiden was lounging around on a bench nearby, guarding Adina’s shaved ice. She didn’t want to talk to her brother. He would most definitely make a joke out of the disappointing situation, so she started to quickly walk back to her parent’s spot on the beach, avoiding Aiden. Unfortunately, Aiden spotted her amongst all of the people. He grabbed her by the arm. “Hey, what the heck? I thought you were just going to check the store out quickly?” he complained. Adina struck him hard in the arm with her elbow. “Why do you look so frustrated? Did little Adina not find anything good,” he mocked in a child-like manner. “Would you ever just shut up?” she choked, trying to release the anger she had for both her brother and Maria. She was overwhelmed with emotion, and a tear was falling down her face. They wandered back to where their parents were and Adina explained to them what had happened, although she didn’t want to. She laid back onto her towel and pulled out her book and tried to carry on with the rest of her vacation.
9 years later: Adina had just finished a costume fitting for the movie she would soon be starring in when she realized she still had to get her brother a gift for his birthday. She now lives in Los Angeles with her husband and one year old boy named Lewis. Despite knowing it’s not very safe to multitask while driving, Adina was currently attempting to eat her lunch, talk with her husband on the phone, and check on Lewis while navigating back to her house. Some days of her life were annoyingly busy, and others were filled with nothing but staying home and taking care of Lewis. Today was one of those chaotic days. “Hey, I have to come back to the house to drop off Lewis because I want to go get Aiden a present for his birthday quickly. Then I have a meeting with the director of this new movie. Could you take care of him the rest of the night?” she asked her husband, and he apathetically agreed to watch over the child. Adina went on with the rest of her hectic schedule. She thought it would be nice to buy her brother a brand new cell phone because he had been dealing with a degenerate five year old phone for a while. Although he didn’t care too much about the quality of his phone, she knew he would be delighted and grateful to receive something a little nicer. Aiden just finished college so he didn’t have an abundance of money to spend on things he didn’t quite need, unlike Adina who was living very comfortably with both her and her husband’s income. As Adina pulled out of the parking lot of the electronics store, she rushed to finish the rest of her sandwich before she had to go to the meeting with her director. A piece of lettuce fell onto her lap as she tried to take a bite, so she took her eyes off the road to pick it up and throw it out the window. Distracted, Adina ran through a stop sign, and there were many people around who noticed. Having the feeling she missed something, she jerked her head back to catch a glimpse of the red octagon. “Oops,” she whispered to herself somewhat indifferently.
She decided she had too much to think about, and she wasn’t going to freak out about missing a stop sign. This unperturbed attitude was quickly contrasted with a loud gasp and hard slam on her brakes after an elderly man had lept out into the parking lot. Barely focused on her driving, she had narrowly escaped hitting this man with her car. She had hit the brakes soon enough and hard enough to force the car to a stop about four feet in front of the man. Embarrassed, but not infuriated by her lack of care, the man gave a slight wave to Adina and simply kept walking towards his car. Adina turned down the music she was playing and sat in silence on the way to her meeting. She made a concentrated effort to stay perfectly centered between the two lines in her lane on the highway. Her phone rang two times but she ignored both of them. Guilt had taken over. When she entered the conference room for her meeting, there were a few more people than she was expecting to be there. They greeted her and she was a bit overwhelmed. She shook hands with all of them and learned their names and recognized that they were some of the people the director said would be on the cast for the movie. “Hey Adina, I’m so glad you’re here! How are you? I always get so excited during this starting process of getting everyone familiar with the cast and the script and everything,” the director cheered. “Yeah,” she agreed softly, “I’m excited too.” Adina had probably made her lack of enthusiasm and the fact that she was overwhelmed too obvious, because the director turned away from her and greeted another cast member after giving Adina a pitiful smirk. It was only two in the afternoon and the gears in Adina’s brain had started to move unhurriedly, causing her to zone out and stare at the cookies sitting on the large table in the center of the room. Two more of Adina’s castmates, which she had worked with before, greeted her and attempted to hold a lengthy conversation with her, but Adina could only respond with short answers.
“Alright everyone, should we get started? Let’s sit,” the director yelled over everyone’s conversations. All of them took their seats in the hard, uncomfortable black chairs around the table. The room suddenly became awkwardly silent. “Oh, and by the way we made kind of a last minute cast change for one of the main roles, so the role of Ashley will be taken by Maria Laborda. She should be here any minute.” Adina gulped. She immediately felt that same horrible feeling she had felt on that day in Venice Beach nine years ago...
Alex Colmenares
MUSIC SUBMISSION CLICK NAME TO LISTEN
Inara Zayic
Ishbel Ligthart
Kayla Stevenson
Lena Pak
Senior
Hollie Graber