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PaperfingerJanuary 2014 The Storm Issue

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PaperfingerJanuary 2014 The Storm Issue

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FEATURE

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When our first in September of 2013 started off beautifully thanks to (our

hard work and) Amber Hoadley’s photography. So naturally, there might not be a better way to bring in the new year’s issue than with the third muse of the creative Hoadley sisters. And of course, since I adore this family and wrote the feature for Amber, I had to write the feature for Rebecca. Rebecca Hoadley, however, uses her creative mind not in photography like Amber, or with well-crafted words like Caroline, but with painting. She even recalls how she was once “the little girl with all the markers and art kits.” She told me, “Thats how I wanted to spend my time, I was intrigued by the process of creating something of my own, the mark making and color mixing. I remember when I

was little, going to the library and checking out art books. It’s what I enjoy doing, and I love learning more about what other artists are doing today.” And this love of gaining creative knowledge hasn’t stopped for her. “Now as a teacher I get to facilitate that creative environment I loved so much. I like problem solving and helping other people solve things too. I’ll wake up in the middle of the night planning lessons and trying to think of better ways to explain or demo something. Having great teachers in my life, that made good connections with me, or helped me find a way to solve something on my own inspired me to try to do the same. My paintings reflect me in a way. I focus on certain areas to detail, while leaving other spaces undefined and nondescript. I have begun collapsing ideas together, and breaking them apart again to find compositions that work. All

of my paintings undergo extreme scrutinizing and reworking until I am satisfied with the outcome. It’s kind of therapeutic in a way - the process has become something that I enjoy just as much, if not more than the finished product. I am learning to do the things that come the most naturally, but at the same time do the very thing you don’t know how to do and that you’re aftraid to do. It’s the instinct as well as the things you have to learn. You have to do both.” Rebecca is a fantastic artist because she can skillfully combine her job and her art, applying her problem-solving skills from the classroom to the subjects of her art. She told me how, “a few years ago I got to the point where I didn’t want to paint another landscape or figure. But I wanted to paint. For me, an outlet was to go abstract. I had a problem of overworking a piece, the colors

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would get muddy and the imagery would be lost. I tried abstract as a way to get away from that. They started out as little color fields, kinda moving all over the canvas/panel and getting crowded together. It was a great way to simply focus on color and form, rather than specific representational imagery. As I paint, I get more ideas, I used to just paint all my ideas into the one canvas, but that is like writing several stories on one page. Or printing three different books on the same pages. You can’t read the type when it is layered over each other. Well, you can’t read my painting when all my ideas are painted on top of each other. When began to split up my ideas, they connected on their own. Minimal Artist Donald Judd mentioned in “The Accidental Masterpiece” by Michael Kimmelman that; Art should clarify a space, not just occupy it.” Personally, I think Kimmelman’s quote is something every artist should keep in mind—the way all the Hoadley sisters do through different mediums. And

it’s definitely working for them. Hard-work and dedication also seems to be a common thread throughout the Hoadley’s. But hard-work is always worth the love of the art. Rebecca recalled how one experience shows this love: “Before the BFA Show at the Crisp Ellert Art Museum, there were several critiques on campus. I had to somehow move my paintings (7ft tall) to the studio on campus. They didn’t fit in a car, and I didn’t want to pay someone to ship them three blocks down the street. I had friends and family help me carry them on foot to the studios. We got a lot of funny looks from people driving by. Then I had to have them help me move them all back! A few weeks later we moved them AGAIN on foot to the Museum for the show. If not for my incredible family and supportive friends, I would be stuck. They are the reason I paint at all.” Family and friends are great inspirations for Rebecca’s work, along with a few choice artists: “Two obvious classics such as Leonardo Da Vinci (his

sketchbooks, and painting studies are fantastic), and Van Gough. I saw an original Rockwell recently, called “Waiting Room” it stood out to me. I love the way Rockwell could inturprut the daily life of people. Some would criticize him has being too corny or idealized, but I love it. Nothing wrong with being a little bit of either of those. Current artists I draw inspiration from are painters Alex Kanevesky, and Michael Carson. I’m drawn to their color pallets and understanding of different values. The paintings are complex without getting muddy or unsettling, I like that balance. Also, illustrator Deanna Staffo. Her drawings come alive and have a playfulness to them.” You can see these factors in all of Rebecca’s gorgeous and inspiring work. You can see finished work at rebeccahoadley.com. Rebecca also has a studio blog, where she posts work as it develops at rebeccahoadley.tumblr.com, or on instagram: rebeccahoadley.

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It all started when Levi took his puppy on their almost-daily jog around the small country-side town in Michigan where Levi lived

his whole twenty-five years of life. Levi and Tori the Shiba Inu puppy went on a couple-mile outing after Levi’s took two hours to complete a thirty mile run every other day. Levi went on an endurance-boosting run before going to his managerial closing-shifts at Starbucks, where he’s been working since he graduated college three years ago. Levi was hoping to go pro as a long-distance runner, and the upcoming Chicago Marathon was his way of getting signed with Nike, where he could be on motivational posters, maybe shoe ads, could raise money for charities doing long-distance marathons a few times a year. And of course, free promotional Nike shoes and a yearly salary based on his performance as an inspiring Midwestern runner.

He already had the confirmation letter from Nike executive’s at the beginning of the year saying his record was impressive, but they wanted to make sure he was up for a long-term commitment and would have to prove he’s serious about training by performing above-and-beyond in this year’s marathon. He was already the

second fastest track star in college, so all he needed to do was prove his worthiness to the Nike runners by getting one of the shortest times in this year’s Chicago marathon, only two weeks away.

Levi pulled his red dog’s red leash gently toward the right, where the cement sidewalk forked off into a dirt path. Levi and Tori trotted off the sidewalk and landed into hard dirt, following the path which lead into the large woods Levi frequented on many childhood adventures. There was still the narrow path patted into the earth from years ago, extending the length of the woods in a winding path.

Levi didn’t usually run through the woods with his puppy, but he felt the desire for a change of scenery, since he felt like he was about to become a new man. The marathon was so close, he felt it changing him a little bit day after day. Levi was so ready for a new life in his running career, that he bought shiny new running shoes: bright blue Nike Endurance Trainers. There was a slight pang in Levi’s chest when he saw them on the wall at Dick’s Sporting Goods the previous night. They looked like the grown-up version of the blue Nike runners his mother had hidden under his bed the night before she passed away

from thyroid cancer when Levi was in eighth grade. He wore those runners in his final meet for the school year the next day, shedding an endless amount of tears as he ran his best time all season. He wore them in honor of his mother until the soles were floppy and frail, and the blue had faded to gray.

Now, he wore the new, mature Nike runners, and it reminded Levi of how his mother would have never wanted him to quit pursuing his passion: to be the fastest runner in the Midwest. To be the inspiration for others who never thought they could complete a marathon. To raise money for finding cures for every kind of cancer that takes away a mother from a child.

The sun was high in the early-morning sky, glistening through the tiny openings of lightly-blowing leaves beginning to fall to the earth. Levi hopped over a fallen trunk as he thought of his mother. Tori leaped faithfully behind. Tori’s ears perked up as they soon heard a rustling in the thick brush beside the trail.

Emerging from behind a chokecherry shrub was a large, black rabbit. The rabbit was beginning to cross the dirt path, when it stopped right in front of Levi and Tori. Levi studied the

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unusual rabbit. Not that rabbits were unusual in the Midwest—there were wild rabbits everywhere, at least five could be spotted on any given day. But this rabbit wasn’t a common small brown-and-gray cottontail rabbit. This rabbit had longer, silkier hair than other wild rabbits and was black.

The rabbit must have not seen or heard the two coming before it leapt from the bush, but Tori was ready for such a prize. Levi’s grasp on her leash had slacken, and at an instant, the natural hunter in Tori had sprung into action. Tori soared at the gold prize, and before the rabbit could react, the dog had a firm grip on the rabbit’s large hind leg. The animal let out a shrill, agonizing banshee-like screech.

“Tori! Drop it!” Levi yelled at the dog, using his angry-father voice he adopted from listening to his father’s constant yelling at Levi to be a better scholar, athlete, or son. The dog’s mouth popped open, and the rabbit stopped screeching. Levi scooped up the leash from the dirt and pulled Tori away from the black rabbit. He watched as the rabbit tried and tried to hop away, but there was blood oozing from ripped flesh on what seemed like such a strong jumping leg.

“Aw, Tori,” Levi scolded the dog, but he felt sorrow, too. Sorrow that such a magnificent creature was helpless and wounded. He had to do something. So he took off his light wind-breaker he wore for chilly early-autumn mornings, told Tori to stay, and walked slowly toward the flinching rabbit.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise,” he cooed. The rabbit was breathing heavy. Levi could hear its little breath pulsing against the quiet morning. The rabbit appeared to slow its breath, and lay frozen like a taxidermy animal as Levi gently wrapped his jacket around the rabbit. It was just a little smaller and lighter than Tori, easy enough to carry. So he cradled the black rabbit in his arms and took a hold

of Tori’s leash.

“Let’s go, Tori,” he balanced the bundle in his arms as he and Tori jogged back to his house. Once he was home, he immediately grabbed the keys to his Accord, locked Tori in the house, and put the rabbit in a basket Levi usually kept Tori’s toys in. The rabbit’s breath seemed to quicken again with Tori’s scent so near.

“Don’t worry. We’re getting you help,” he comforted the rabbit. The rabbit let him pet its soft ears and back without fuss. Levi wasn’t sure if it was from its weakness or if it was a tamed rabbit, escaped from someone in his neighborhood’s house. He would search the internet for clues when he went back home.

Soon, Levi arrived at the vet’s office, and carried the rabbit up to the check-in counter. The vet told him the doctors would take excellent care of it, and would release it back to the wild as soon as they could. Levi knew the vets would keep their word, since he trusted them with his own dog.

A couple days later, Levi and his childhood-friend Hugh were returning home from another run when the men noticed a woman standing in front of Levi’s small house, looking down the road as if she had been patiently waiting for hours.

From what Levi guessed, the woman was probably around their age, but even from a distance away, her dark eyes carried a calmness and understanding that was centuries old. Levi examined her brown, smooth hands folded together in front of her flowing yellow dress that fell just below her knees and her pitch black hair. Her eyes seemed to twinkle against her chocolate-colored skin. Her presence almost made Levi forget how weak and tired he felt from running.

“Who’s that? Your girlfriend?” Hugh asked.

“I wish. I’ve never seen her.”

“Man, that last five miles was intense.”

“You only ran five miles.” The men slowed to a light jog when they approached the door and the beautiful woman.

“It was still intense. I don’t know how you do thirty any day let alone every—”

“Can I help you?” Levi sputtered as he tried to regain some air when they reached the door.

“My name is Adalynn. Ada,” she held out her hand to shake Levi’s, but he recoiled a little.

“Sorry, but I’m a little dirty. Long run.” Hugh took the keys from Levi’s hand and unlocked the door. As Hugh opened the door, Tori the puppy ran out the door to greet the boys. Ada saw the dog and instantly fainted, crumpling onto the porch.

Hugh and Levi looked down at the unconscious girl, then at each other.

“Maybe she needed water more than we do?” Hugh guessed.

“What do we do, man?”

“Call 911!” Hugh said, rushing into the house. Tori trailed him happily.

“No, dude! Help me get her inside first!” Levi yelled after him.

Hugh trotted back and scooped Ada into his arms. Levi closed the door while Hugh laid her gently on the couch in the living room to the right of the front door.

“She seemed perfectly fine,” Levi said.

“Is she breathing?”

Levi leaned over, putting his ear just above her nose and mouth. He felt a soft tickle from her nose. Tori ran

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up beside him and sniffed her face. He gave his pup a little push out of the way.

“Tori, stop. Yeah, she’s breathing. Are you going to call 911?”

“Should I? I’ve never called 911 before for a fainting attack.”

“I’m going to get us water. I definitely need some.” Levi’s chest felt like it was on fire. He went to the fridge and brought back three water bottles.

“Your dog loves this lady,” Hugh mentioned as he took the bottle from Levi. Levi looked over at the couch where Ada lay. Tori was running back and forth along the edge of the couch, wagging and sniffing along the way, licking Ada’s arm every few paces. The guys watched as Tori stuck her nose into a pocket at Ada’s hip, hidden between the folds in her dress.

“Uh oh, she found some goodies,” Hugh said. Tori pulled out a black rabbit’s foot on a keychain between her little jaws and set it on the floor, sniffing at the charm. “Hey, a lucky rabbit’s foot. I had one of those when I was a kid.” Levi picked up

the foot, wiping Tori’s saliva on his shorts.

“Yeah, everyone did. I remember throwing yours in the garbage in middle school,” Levi off-handedly noted. The keychain reminded him of the black rabbit he saw in the woods. The vet never called just to affirm whether they healed the rabbit or not. He wondered if the charm came from that rabbit. The hair was shiny and silky, like the charm was brand new.

“You dick! I thought it fell off my backpack!”

Ada’s arms lifted into the air, like a mummy rising from the dead. Her hands balled into loose fists as she rubbed her eyes, and sat up.

“You’re awake,” Levi sat on the couch next to her, and grabbed Tori’s collar to keep her at a distance.

“I heard yelling from far away,” she explained. Her eyes traveled bewilderingly across Levi’s brown couches, the laminated Live Strong posters of Lance Armstrong and other runners on the wall.

Hugh stood up and chugged the rest of the water then said, “Well, now I don’t have to call the police.”

“Are you ok? I’m sorry if Tori scared you. She’s really just a sweetheart. Doesn’t even bark,” Levi explained, rubbing Tori between her pointy ears. She seemed to smile. But Ada wasn’t smiling.

“I’m fine. But I am rather terrified of dogs…”

“Why’d you go to a house with a dog then?” Hugh asked.

“Ignore him. But, why were you waiting here?”

“I came here to help you,” she stated rather factually.

“He needs loads of help.”

“Hugh, seriously. Knock it off.” Levi threw his empty water bottle at Hugh.

“I came to give you this…” she reached around in her pocket and gasped when she realized her trinket was gone.“You mean this? My dog’s a little

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mischievous. She found it in your pocket.” Levi held out the furry black foot.

“Yes, that’s it,” Ada explained quietly. Levi noticed the way her shoulders hunched. Ada’s eyes were focused on Tori, sitting at Levi’s feet and licking his hand.

“Why are you giving me this?”

“He’s just gonna throw it in the trash, anyway,” Hugh said getting up. “I’m leaving. Come by when you’re done with your next twenty-five miles and I’ll join you again, Levi.” Hugh threw his own empty bottle at Levi as he walked out of the room then out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

“I want to help you. It can only do good things for you.”

Levi wasn’t exactly superstitious, nor did he know exactly what she meant about helping, but he liked the way Ada seemed confident, the warmth and strength he felt radiating from her words and her face.

“Why would you want to help me?” He put the foot in his pocket.

“Because of the other day when you helped me,” she acted as if he knew exactly what she was referring to. But Levi couldn’t recall ever seeing this woman before. He sat staring at her, his dark eyes squinted, trying to recollect a memory that was never formed. “In the woods. When your dog caught my leg.”

Levi’s eyes widened. There was no way this woman was talking about the rabbit.

“You mean…that rabbit’s leg?”

“Well, yes.” Ada flexed her leg out in front of Levi. There were four dark, almost purple scars on the inside of her right ankle. They looked like large dog bites. “That was me. I live in the woods. I usually take shape as a rabbit by day. I thought I was safer in animal form, but I guess not…”

“You can turn into a rabbit?”

“Yes! It’s always been that way, for my family.”

“Why? Who are you?”

“I guess I’m really just a girl. But my family has always been protected by the forest queen. She carries the life of all the nature around here. And she put a spell on my family centuries ago when she found my great-great-great…great…something grandfather.”

“Why? What did your grandfather do?” Levi couldn’t make any sense of what Ada was saying.

“His own parents threw him in the woods, probably hoping something would kill him. But the forest queen didn’t have any children of her own, not human ones, anyway. She took pity on him and saved him. She protected him by giving him the ability to hide in plain sight as a rabbit.”

She said it so matter-of-factly. But changing forms? Forest queen? Levi couldn’t process anything she had said.

“And I want to pay it forward, really. Just like the forest queen showed my family. I want to show it to you, for helping me. You really saved me by taking me to a doctor.” She seemed to really trust him, appreciate the kindness he showed.

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“That’s not a family member’s foot, is it?”

“Of course not! We aren’t barbaric! I made it myself.”

“So it’s magic?” “It can be.”

“Maybe it’ll keep my time down for the big marathon.”

“Marathon?”

“This year is the year I’m running to get a contract with Nike. It means everything to me. I’ve been running thirty miles to knock that 26 out of the park.”

“Then you should always keep this charm with you when you run. It will help,” she said and gave Levi a look and smile you could have poured on a stack of pancakes. She seemed so certain of the foot’s capabilities. Of the charm’s luck and power.

“Well, if it’s transformative, then yeah. But speaking of running, I’ve really got to get ready for work. Will you stop by again? You know, to see if your charm worked?” The two stood up at the same time.

“Of course, I’ll visit you here again soon.”

Levi told Tori to stay as he and Ada walked to the door.

“I’ll be testing this magic, then,” Levi said with a slight smirk. He still wasn’t sure he believed her. But it was too much to be a coincidence. Besides, how would she know about the

rabbit from the woods? He hadn’t even told Hugh about the rabbit.

“See you soon,” she said, and walked slowly down the sidewalk.

The next day Levi stuck the foot in his pocket and headed out for his thirty miles, stopping at Hugh’s apartment during the twenty-fifth mile so the two could run together.

Hugh asked about Ada, but Levi said all she gave him was the foot and said it would help with his marathon training. Hugh said it was a weird idea. Probably some weirdo pagan girl who had a crush on Levi. Levi shrugged off Hugh’s snarky remark, but couldn’t tell Hugh about the forest queen. The transforming rabbit family.

After the run, Levi noticed his legs didn’t feel as shaky as they usually did after his run. He didn’t know whether to believe in the power of the rabbit’s foot, or if the shoes were really the best in long-distance running like the store clerk promised. Levi didn’t mention this to Hugh either, but simply told him he would pick him up on his next run.

However, the following day was four days before the marathon, and when Levi put the rabbit foot in his pocket while he went out for a run, he felt lighter, different. Instead of stopping at Hugh’s, he kept running. When he arrived home, he felt his breathing wasn’t as haggard. He felt like he was breathing smoothly and as normally as he did when he was just going on with his normal day.

Three days before the marathon, Levi felt like a small candle flame was burning inside him rather than the inferno that usually occupied his chest. When he had the rabbit’s foot in his pocket, he felt like Superman. Levi truly felt like he was ready for the marathon, ready to take on all the Nike runners. He was ready to be a Nike poster model, like Lance Armstrong in the biking world. He knew he could be the Lance Armstrong of the long-distance runners. Levi started to believe in the charm’s power, he believed he could really be the best runner at the whole damn marathon. That night, Levi heard a knocking at his door. Ada had come for a visit as she promised.

“Would you like to come in?” he asked her.

“No, it’s fine, I’m just stopping by. How’s your marathon training, Levi?” was the first thing she asked.

“It might be crazy, but I really think your charm is working. I don’t feel as tired, I feel lighter. What kind of spell did you put on it?”

“It doesn’t matter what kind of magic is on it. You wouldn’t understand, anyway. It’s just nature’s way. And I told you it was going to help. I’ll let you keep it, if you help me one more time.”

“Alright. Of course.”

“Will you take me to the marathon when you go?” she asked sincerely.

Levi hadn’t thought about bringing anyone with him. Hugh was even going to watch Tori for him while he was staying at a hotel in the city the night before the big run. He didn’t want any distractions to keep him from his goal, especially when he was feeling so strong.

“Sure, I guess. But will you do something for me?”

“I’m not helping enough?”

But Levi couldn’t stop thinking about what Ada had told him about all the magic surrounding her life. Whether she was crazy like Hugh said.

“Will you turn into a rabbit?”

“Right now?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I can’t.”

“What? Why?”

“I can’t transform in front of anyone. If I do, I lose my power. It’s part of the spell.”

“Oh.”

“You believe me though, don’t you?”

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“Yeah. I do…”

“Then everything will be fine. Just take me with you to the marathon, and you’ll see.” Without saying goodbye, she turned around and left.

Levi wasn’t sure what to think, again. Was there really a catch to Ada’s transformations? Was it all a lie? Levi looked at the rabbit’s foot he took from his pocket. He could feel the same warmth radiating from the charm that seemed to radiate from Ada. Why would she be lying to him? The charm clearly worked. He felt faster, invincible. He didn’t want to doubt her. He was determined to believe her almost as much as he was determined to show Nike he was a serious runner. So he followed her, as quiet as he could. He was used to breathing calmly when he felt his heart racing.

Ada walked behind the block, toward the woods where Levi met the rabbit. When Ada arrived at the edge of the woods, Levi ducked behind an overgrown dapperwillow bush, that had to be at least seven feet wide. Levi watched her look behind her, clearly checking if

anyone was watching. Then, it actually happened. Within an instant, Ada’s body had shrunk and shifted into a sleek long-haired black rabbit. Levi couldn’t help it, he jumped up, flailing into the dapperwillow, causing a ton of noise. The rabbit’s ears perked up, and hopped swiftly over to the dapperwillow. Even with Levi’s training, he wasn’t built exactly for speed, but for distance. The rabbit was right in front of him. And Ada the rabbit spoke.

“You didn’t trust me. And now the spell’s contract is broken. I will be a rabbit forever now, and you will never see me again.” She hopped under the long thin strands of the dapperwillow, and was hidden. There wasn’t any rustling. Levi stood there for at least fifteen more minutes, but everything was silent.

The next day, Levi waited in front of his car for an hour before he finally put his bags in the car and drove to Chicago. Ada was nowhere in sight and the weather was cold and rainy. When he got to the Windy City, he bundled up in sweats and spent the day running through rain in Chicago’s block-miles, millennium park, and up and

down the Navy pier.

Levi felt like he was going to heave up his lungs by the time he got back to the hotel. He didn’t know how many miles he spent the day running, but he knew it had to be close to 8:00 at night when he finished. He took a hot shower, and got into bed. He felt like everything in his life had been leading up to the next day, The day when he would prove that he was worthy of being a professional runner, right next to the guys he’s always admired. Right beside the Nike group, yet at the same time, he couldn’t stop thinking about Ada. He felt guilty for not trusting her, but at the same time, he did think she was a little crazy. How often did a girl or anyone talk about transforming into animals? Or about forest spirits? But he had seen her turn into a rabbit. And he completely regretted it. He fell asleep wondering where Ada was, whether she was really going to be a rabbit forever.

Morning. A dark October morning, where the sky was looked like it was a water-colored painting of only grays and blacks. Levi threw on his running apparel and grabbed

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the rabbit’s foot, but realized he didn’t have pockets in his running shorts. He didn’t have any kind of chain either. He didn’t even consider the rabbit’s foot with his running attire.

“It doesn’t matter,” Levi said to his pale and fatigued reflection. His hazel eyes were dim and sleepy. His brown hair was sticking up in every direction. “I already know I can run thirty.

No. Forty miles. This twenty-six is nothing compared to what I’ve been doing every day.” His mirror pep-talk made him feel like a million bucks. He was ready. He threw the rabbit’s foot on the bed and left the hotel without looking back.

The watery clouds blended together in wide strokes as Levi got his banner and number at the check-in tent. He was one of the first twenty out of the half a million runners to arrive at the starting mark. He gazed around the area, took in the sky-scrapers and the on-lookers. The side-lines were already filling with eager spectators, all clutching boiling coffees and spouting white puffs into the cold air. It felt like winter was already beginning its long occupation in the Mid-West. He did jumping jacks and a few lunges to warm up his body against the cold. Soon, the marathon would start. Levi’s heart swelled when he noticed to his right, the Nike group was doing stretches together. They were all smiling and pumping each other up. He wanted to be the seventh member of their group. And next year, he would be.

“I’m so ready for this, aren’t you?” he asked the closest member of the group.

“I’ve been doing this with Nike for five years, and every year feels like a brand new experience. I’m so ready,” the Nike member gave Levi a thumbs up. “Good luck out there.” Levi looked just past the guy’s shoulder to the crowd. Where he swore he saw a beautiful dark

girl in the crowd. He heart felt like it was going to burst. Was it Ada? He tried to move around to get a better look, but the running path was so full. He couldn’t see passed the runners’ bodies into the crowd again.

Levi checked his watch. 7:28. The race was starting in two minutes. When Levi looked up from his watch, he felt even colder. A steady rain had started up, the same rain that Levi ran through all of yesterday. A combined moan spread throughout the runners. Rain meant slick roads. Despite his firm-traction shoes, Levi became nervous. He was terrified of slipping. And he was terrified that he didn’t have the lucky foot. This nervousness made him angry. He was angry that he was afraid.

The alarms went off. It was time. The runners shot out into the road like little colorful pellets from a BB gun. Levi took off in harmony with the Nike group. He at least wanted to keep his strategy: stay in time with the Nike group. But his anger took over him. He wanted to show them, show the weather that he wasn’t affected by any of it. He pounced ahead of the group. He was one of the few at the head of the ever-long pack of runners.

He kept ahead of most of the Nike runners for a good fifteen miles. But then, he noticed his breathing wasn’t as smooth as it had been. His legs were slightly shivering with every step he made. Was it the rain that was making him feel this way? He hadn’t felt affected by running in over a week. As long as he’d had the rabbit’s foot.

Suddenly, he looked at the crowd. He saw Ada’s face among the thousands of other bundled-up supporters. While the other spectators were all yelling and cheering, she was standing completely still, right at the front of the do-not-pass ropes. She wasn’t smiling. There was no warmth from her stare that Levi had previously felt with her near.

He was so busy focusing on her, that he didn’t notice the few runners ahead of him swerving around a small puddle on the road. He didn’t swerve. His high-traction running shoe slipped on the pavement, and his ankle buckled to a right angle. A hot prickle erupted from his left ankle and shook through his body. He felt like he was falling in slow motion, but at an instant, he was soaked, lying on his back, his foot in the air. Runners were jumping over and around him. He rolled onto his knees, which collected tons of hard pebbles. He stood on his right foot, and when he tried to place his left foot firmly on the ground, the mere attempt to put his foot flat was impossible. His foot wasn’t responding to his command. He set his leg down, andfell right back to where he was just lying.

Two medics ducked under the spectator ropes and placed a gurney on the ground next to Levi.

“Can you move it?”

“No.”

“It’s definitely broken.”

Levi didn’t hear anything else. He realized there was no use arguing. He felt it in his body that he couldn’t make his ankle rotate, let alone run the last fifteen miles. He didn’t even want to move his leg around. The tears welled in his eyes. He slowly closed them.

Levi couldn’t bare looking at the runners, the millions of shoes flying over and past his head. Flags of colorful shorts. Evidence of thousands of lungs expanding and contracting, emptying hot ghosts, light with white dreams that evaporated all around him.

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Holly Rosnik

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Miranda stepped outside onto her porch and overlooked the dewy brown

grass. The sun was just breaching the roof of the adjacent apartments as she lit up her last cigarette. As she inhaled her smoky relief, trying to forget the night before and all of Mark’s wrongdoings, a small critter appeared near her feet. It had a stark black coat, straggly legs, short whiskers and a soft “mew” that warmed her heart. Just as she bent down to greet the little cat, Mark opened the sliding glass door and it jumped from the ledge and ran behind the dumpster.

“What did I tell you about smoking?” Mark snapped. “You’re going to grow into a crusty Florida whore smoking that shit.”

“It’s my last one, I swear.” Miranda lied as she pondered the meaning of “Florida whore”, as if it made it any worse being a whore from Florida.

“How did you afford to buy a pack anything? If I find out you’ve been stealing from me, I swear to God, Miranda.”

Miranda felt herself getting flustered.

“I didn’t steal this from you. I found half a pack on the sidewalk near the track.”

In reality, her neighbor gave her the pack after a long talk one afternoon. She didn’t like

lying to Mark or anyone really, but she had to protect herself and this wasn’t something she

wanted to fight about. Knowing Mark he would end up accusing her of cheating and end up fighting with their neighbor.

Mark rolled his eyes and took in a deep breath.

“I’m making a run to Orlando, do

you want to come?”

“A run for what?” Miranda inquired. If it was for anything but weed, she did not want to risk getting caught.

“Some pot, a few grams of coke at a ridiculously low price, and some tabs. A buddy of mine is really hooking us up.”

“No thanks, I think I’m just going to clean around the house a little.”

“It’s about time you did some cleaning.” Mark scoffed. Miranda rolled her eyes, looking towards the rising sun.

“I’m kidding baby, I’ll be home around 6. Love you.” Mark said as he walked towards her and kissed her on the forehead.

After Mark left she made herself a cup of Guatemalan roast coffee with some pumpkin spice creamer and returned to sit on her porch. Flipping her long brown hair away from the rising steam she couldn’t help but reflect on how she got herself into this situation; living with a drug dealing, emotionally and sometimes physically abusive boyfriend and depending on him for everything. Her parents did not raise her in such a way. It was only a few years ago she was living in the suburbs with her comfortably middle class family trying to figure out where to go after college.

Both her parents were college graduates, and she was working on a degree in Natural Science. After her junior year, her parents cut her off financially after finding out she developed a small, social coke habit. She tried to explain to them that everyone her age was experimenting, but they did not support such a lifestyle. At the time, she didn’t see it as a big deal. She was just having fun and living her life, and through it she met Mark. He was a student at her college, and subsequently her dealer as well. They went from causal meet ups at parties and run ins on campus,

to spending every night together watching comedy shows while snorting lines off her environmental science textbook.

Like many of the bad choices in her life, it all started out so innocently. After college, against her family and friends wishes, Mark convinced her to move to south Florida just outside of Melbourne. More than the drugs, she was addicted to the thrill. The thrill of never getting caught, having no responsibilities, being completely free; this was the ultimate high. They continued to party while Mark started to get more connected into the drug ring. She had trouble getting a job in her field, so Mark suggested that she stay home and help him deliver and supply to the neighboring towns. The more dependent she became on Mark, the more frugal and agitated he acted towards her. Her friends and family continued to warn her about him, but she didn’t listen. Her pride stopped her from admitting and she was living in an ignorant reality that she was mooching off a dead beat that was controlling everything in her life. But with him, she continued to experience the thrill, and for the moment that was all she really cared about.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a little black tail. She heard a tiny “mew” in behind the chair, so she stood up to check it out. As she walked closer, the little cat ran behind the dumpster. Hesitate; she decided to go find it. Her curiosities lead her behind the dumpster.

“You poor little angel.” She said picking up the cat from a pile of moldy garbage.

In a high pitched voice she said, “Are you hungry little guy? I bet you are. Let me see what I can get you.”

She carried the cat to her porch, set it on the chair and went inside to fetch some canned tuna. After she fed it, she took some towels and cleaned its paws. For the first time

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in a

long time cuddling the little animal made her feel safe and happy. She could feel it’s warm fur against her tan skin and it’s irregular heartbeat, beating against her chest. For the rest of the afternoon, she sat with the cat on her porch. She didn’t dare bring it inside with Mark’s permission because she knew he would not like a stray running around their house.

The front door slammed and the cat jumped off her lap. Mark was home and called her inside.

“She you later little friend,” she said to the cat. “I’ll put something out here for you tonight.” She thought a bit about what to name it, but since she didn’t know whether it was a boy or a girl, she decided to name it cat.

Miranda walked into the kitchen, disgusted by Mark’s sweaty appearance. Although she would never call him out, she knew he was on some sort of prescription drug. For a few months throughout college she dappled with Adderall. Not to study though, to party. The great thing about prescriptions is that they are legal. If you get caught taking them most police will not question your state of euphoria if you tell them you have a doctor’s note. On the other hand, because they are so readily available and addictive, it is easy to get caught up. After a major withdraw and emotional collapse, she promised herself she would stick to natural highs.

Mark looked down at her black ants that were covered with Cat’s fur.

“What’s that shit all over your pants?” Mark said.

“I found this little cat behind the dumpster and I was feeding him.” She could sense a little hope boiling inside of her as she started to ask Mark if she could keep him.

“It doesn’t seem to have a home, and I was thinking if we could get it shots and clean it up, maybe it could live with us.”

Mark laughed as if to completely disregard her feelings. Sweat visibly dripping off his red beard he said, “You can barely take care of this house, let alone a cat. If you can prove to me that you’re responsible, maybe I’ll let you keep it, dear.”

She absolutely hated when he acted “fatherly” towards her. Just because he paid for their rent, food, and everything else, did not mean he was her “father”. Although she was annoyed, she chose to disregard the demeaning statement and focus on the possibility of keeping Cat.

Over the next week, Miranda would wake up every morning to feed Cat whatever scraps she could find. Even after Mark would freak out on her over whatever menial problem he was worried about, she found comfort in cuddling it’s tiny paws and soft body. Cat would never hurt her, it only loved her and she loved it.

One night Mark decided to take an improve trip to Miami, leaving her alone in their apartment for the night.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come? We’re going to roll and tear up South Beach.” Mark

“My blood pressure has been so high this week; if I roll I’ll probably have a heart attack.” Miranda said. “Can you leave a gram on the table; I want to smoke a little before bed.”

“Sure thing honey cakes don’t do anything I wouldn’t do tonight.”

Miranda smiled at Mark for calling her “honey cakes”. Even though these moments were few and far between, she loved when he was affectionate towards her like when they first got together. After Mark left, Miranda made herself some tea, took a few swats

out of the bong, and cuddled up on the couch with one of her favorite books. A few chapters in, she heard some rustling against the sliding glass door. Even though her neighborhood was perfectly safe, she didn’t like to be in the house alone and this scuffling was enough to freak her out. She tip toed to the corner of the drapes and look through them.

“It’s only you Cat,” Miranda sighed. She thought for a second if she should let Cat in for the night. Mark wouldn’t be home until late tomorrow morning and she could have something to sleep with. She opened the door and brought Cat into the bedroom. It nestled itself perfectly between her and Mark’s pillows. She could get used to this she though. After a few minutes she was fast asleep with Cat beside her.

The next morning Mark came home early and discovered the new arrangement. Abruptly waking her up from her sleep Mark yelled, “What the fuck is that? A squirrel, you brought a fucking squirrel into my bed?”

Barely having time to react Miranda cried, “It’s a cat. It’s a fucking cat.”

Mark starred harshly at Miranda. “Did I say you could keep that?”

“You didn’t say I couldn’t. And who’s says I need your permission?” she yelled.

“This is my bed and my house. You don’t pay the bills, do you? You don’t make the runs you just take and take. You can’t even clean the fucking house.” Mark reached over the covers and grabbed Miranda’s wrist.

“The nerve you have to bring a fucking rat into my house, after all I do for you.”

Miranda tugged her arm away and pushed Mark back.

“I’m sorry,” she started “I’ll put

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him outside.” By this time all the commotion had caused Cat to run under the bed.

“I’ll put him outside.” Mark said as he reached under the bed and grabbed Cat by his neck.

“Be careful with him, you’re going to hurt him holding him like that.” Miranda pleaded.

A small smirk started to form over Mark’s lips. “I ain’t doing shit. If I wanted to hurt it, I’d throw it hard.”

Just as Miranda stood up, Mark threw it against the floorboard. As it hit the ground, Cat let out a tiny screech. Miranda was speechless. She ran over to Cat and cupped its

frail body in her hands. It wasn’t breathing. Tears filled her eyes as the seconds passed she waited for some sort of movement from it. Nothing. Simply nothing. Mark moved towards the doorway, scrolling through his phone as if nothing happened. She looked up at him, her heart filled with anger.

“It’s just a cat,” Mar scuffed “I’m sure there’s plenty more wherever you found it.”

Still speechless she was trying to find the right words to say. All the times he had hit her, yelled, screamed at her she always seemed to have a little more fight and hope that things would get better. This was it though and she knew it. All this little animal had done was love

her and she loved it. She couldn’t let Mark convince her that this was okay and she wasn’t about to justify his actions. She stood up, still holding Cat’s lifeless body and walked pass him. She walked out onto her porch, over the brown grass, and behind the dumpster. She laid Cat there and kissed it. Mark was never going to change. This was it and it was only downhill from here. She couldn’t physically get back at him, but she knew she could do one thing, leave. So that’s what she did.

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Pic of PT

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As a little girl I felt extremely special ‘cause my grandmother asked ME out of 9 grandchildren to write her little poems. Unfortunately I soon reached that age (let’s say high-school, 12 years old) where writing poems was lame. So I quit. Luckily for me I moved to an awkward turtle of a country called America where people actually go to school to learn how to write poetry (Dutchies are way too down to earth for that). Next to my English major I decided on a creative writing minor in poetry and started writing again. And here I am, writing. Poetry. Yea it is cool now to write poetry so I am sticking with it (or maybe I have just grown up and no longer care what others think….).

-Pauline Thier

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The Artist’s home

“Sometimes we think we should be able to know everything. But we can’t. We have to allow ourselves to see what there is to see, and we have to imagine.” –Mina (Skellig by David Almond)

I know the wayto the artist’shome. Listenreal hard and you mayhear my whispersguiding you.

Go down, but neverlose sightof where you came from.Once you have passedthe home,back up.

Let go of both worldsand meet in the grey.The area oflove. Art. And ultimatelyjoy. Beand listen.

Once you areand once you hear,you will be ableto see. With seeingcomes creating. Withcreating comes freedom.

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New Orleans

JAX-MSY is not a difficult journey.Never much turbulence, never anystorms--the journey, not the places.So when the argument started, I was indignant. A waste of my time, a wasteof yours. The argument was gettinglouder- raising our voices because logic escaped us. A World Wrestling Entertainment match (WWE) played on the TV in the back, narrating our fight. There are no winnersin this fight. It’s just for entertainment andshow ratings.

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Your Olustee

We go to war forgetting whichside we’re on, your tree-line looks identical to minefrom the view in the dirt,little pebbles graze open palmslike bullets between long,yellowing grasses.

I had a cause but left it at camp, with letters neversent and an empty canteen. I fought for you until my compass broke,the dew evaporating into Civil skies while the exhaleof gunpowder hangs overhead.

The battle criesitself into fitful sleep,when the smoke clears we faceeach other, guns at the ready,uniforms so dirty they lookexactly the same.

50% Chance

while convincing youto stay,I convinced myselfout of letting you

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Tempest

I wish I had never known a man like himI wish I could have been blind and hiddenI, cloistered no moreWrecked by his existence What makes love when love is not being made? Minds coerce hearts, hearts make minds. He gives it good to another girl. I am a lily, who no one saw bloom, but bloom I did. White. Now my mind begins to brown at the edges. Only a glance back at me, and I dropped the apple in his lap. I can feel him in my fingertips, a new experience. I wish I had never awoke. Conjurer man. Claim me while I’m weak. Conquer-or man. I wish I had known you were coming, in my dreams, all I saw was your leaving.

Note To My Insomniac Lover

I would tell you to dream of teeth on tender lips, but If sleep was sweet for you, you’d never come back to me. As it is you are faithful and red eyed, you need only the assurance of a hand in yours to fair the day. Don’t fear the night when it comes, know that one day I will wake with your warm breath on my shoulder. Think of that shoulder, and I will think of that breath, like summer on my skin.

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Thank you to all my incredible writers!Think you’ve got what it takes to write something for us?Submit your stories and poems to jessicafrickdesigns@gmail

ALL IMAGES COURTESY OF KATE WILLINK! Thank you for the amazing work!

Email Kate at: katerose.co