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Literary Journal for Young Writers

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Shorts

Kinship Corolla

By Camila Cal

Bryan’s foot floors the gas. We’re sailing through the desolate two a.m. Turnpike, his Corolla packed to the brim with friendship and feeling. The five of us know we’re going too fast, that the 90 miles per hour lightning freedom could be extinguished with a simple pothole. I say “slow down” but really, I mean “don’t let this ever end.”

It’s Valentine’s Day.

I was falling asleep on a twin size mattress in Natalie and Nicole’s dorm room, the space where I spent the majority of my freshman year. I lay at the foot of Natalie’s bed; we were crumpled together from the weight of the day. Alexa, my roommate, hunched over at a desk, typing her way through assignments. Nicole played music from her bed across the room. We were all close enough that if we stretched out our arms, we could probably interlock fingers. A pinky promise was always only a reach away.

My phone rings. It’s Bryan, another part of our dorm family. He’s breathless, his voice muffled by the connection or his despair. I’m half-awake but I make out words that sound like “boyfriend” and “cheater” and “break up.” I sit straight up when I hear “Gainesville, RIGHT NOW.”

I don’t remember what my first thought was, probably something along the lines of it’s MIDNIGHT, Gainesville is two hours away, and oh God I have class tomorrow. But those thoughts weren’t important, because one rose above the rest, tore its way from brain to throat to mouth to phone:

“You’re not doing this alone.”

That’s how we end up strapped into Bryan’s college Corolla’s crumb-filled seats leading us to the demise of a two-year relationship. Co-pilots navigating our friend through heartbreak.

I’m sitting in the front seat diligently skipping any song that mentions love or happiness or commitment or feelings or boyfriends that cheat using dating apps, which is to say that mostly we listened to our own voices offering advice and promises that things will get better. I watch the speedometer needle move higher and higher and I want to say what we’re all thinking:

This probably isn’t worth dying for.

Just six months ago, we were all strangers to each other. Random roommates at the mercy of a university’s algorithm. But now I know that Alexa throws up when she eats too much at Chili’s, and I know that Natalie can’t go outside without socks on, and I know that Nicole has always wanted to dye her hair red, and I know that right now Bryan needs us.

I look around at the broken, beautiful group of people hurling through the highway with me and I choose not to say anything at all because the windows are rolled down, the wind slaps our cheeks, and the laughter at how ridiculous this all is bruises our ribcages. And in this brief, gloriously electrifying coming-of-age moment, I think, maybe, just maybe– this is worth dying for.

We wait outside a Gainesville apartment for a while, feeling the energy of the night in our chests. To pass the time, we tell jokes, yawn, kick through the empty water bottles at our feet. And then Bryan comes back, silently crawls into the backseat of the car; his body collapsing into the safety of friendship. It’s quiet for a second, and then he begins sobbing into my friends’ laps. There’s nothing left for us here. Natalie takes the wheel, Alexa rubs his back in careful circles, Nicole runs her fingers through his hair. This time, I do say the thing we’re all thinking: “Let’s go home.”

 

Camila Cal (she/her) was born in Montevideo, Uruguay and lives in the U.S. She attends the University of Central Florida where she studies creative writing and journalism. Her experience as an immigrant and first-generation student inspires her to write creative nonfiction that others may relate to. Her work has been published in UCF’s literary magazine The Cypress Dome, and Ghost Heart Literary Journal’s Chambers issue. Find her on Instagram at @camivcal and at Twitter at @camivcal!

Stranger Things

By Beau Heese

Goodbye Stranger
All seems right in the world for friends Mike, Will, Dustin, and Lucas. Their biggest concerns involve avoiding local bullies, Dungeons and Dragons, and participating in their school audio visual club. But things quickly take a turn for the worst when Will goes missing. And it seems that the only way to save him might be through a mysterious new girl who barely speaks. This is the problem presented in the Duffer brothers new show Stranger Things. 
The Duffer brothers absolutely nailed the secondary characters in the series. Viewers will enjoy watching the change and growth of the flawed Steve Harrington, caring Nancy Wheeler, and shy Jonathan Byers, played by Joe Keery, Natalia Dyer, and Charlie Heaton respectively. The story simply cannot exist without them.

Another feature of this series is the relatable main characters. Viewers will have no problem relating to the quiet Eleven (Millie Bobby Brown), humorous Dustin (Gaten Matarazzo), meek Will (Noah Schnapp), and determined Lucas (Caleb McLaughlin). Viewers will especially love their ‘leader’ of sorts Mike Wheeler (Finn Wolfhard). Younger viewers will especially enjoy these characters.

The special effects presented in this show both visually and audibly, are absolutely amazing, and the monsters presented in the series are quite realistic. It’s like you’re really there, in the upside down. And the growl of the demogorgon still sends shivers down my spine!

This show also has the length to keep people interested. Made up of three seasons of about eight one hour long episodes, viewers will be hooked early and will most certainly stick around until the end of the series. And with a fourth season well on the way, the fan base is through the roof.

Audiences of all ages will fall in love with this series. Younger fans will enjoy the relatable characters. Teens will love the fear and the drama that this program brings to the table. Older viewers will be attracted by the nostalgia of the series. In short, Stranger Things is great for anyone who can handle the fear.

Viewers, readers, I urge you to watch this series. I assure you that you will fall in love with the dark plot, fun characters, and great special effects. Just be careful, once started it may be impossible to stop.

 

Beau Heese is a seventh-grade student from Saint Patrick Catholic School in Rolla, Missouri. He wrestles, does taekwondo, and also likes to play the drums. Beau also loves to read, which inspires him to write.

The Feathered Lover

By Abby Yuan

The bell at the top of the door rang as Henry strolled into the butcher shop, a white-walled, white-tiled establishment. Behind the glass display case, chunks of pig, cow, and chicken lay like fleshy fallen Dominos. Bridget stood behind the counter, scribbling an order on a ledger. A relatively short woman with brown hair tied into a ponytail, she wore glasses and her hazel eyes flitted between the display case and her ledger. With a deep breath, Henry gave himself a pep talk. You are Henry Bartholomew Williams, and you are going to tell this woman how you feel.

“Bridget,” Henry said.

Looking up from her ledger, Bridget adjusted her name tag and said, “Hello, can I help you?”

“Bridge, listen, I need to be quick. My name is Henry Bartholomew Williams. I’ve been coming here for some time now. I don’t even eat meat. I just came here to see you. I threw all that pork away. It was such a waste, but it was worth it.” Feeling his arm tingle, he knew he had to continue. “I’m a vegetarian. It was worth seeing you each day and getting look at you from a distance.”

Then what consisted of his bicep shriveled, and Henry glanced down and saw that his arm had transformed into a duck wing. The left side of his shirt tore open as the wing grew, sprouting pristine feathers with a beautiful blue stripe, only it was larger than a duck’s wing—it was a human-sized wing.

Bridget’s face slowly transformed into that of a woman witnessing a man’s arm change into a duck’s wing.

“Oh my god,” she said.

“Bridget, Bridget, eyes up here,” he said, pointing at his face. “I’ve got to get through this. I’ve been watching you and trying to get the courage to come talk to you, and I think I’ve finally gathered the courage. I like you. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever encountered in my entire life. I’ve watched you greet customers, and while you get a little annoyed with the little kids, overall, you are kind and funny and …”

His other arm morphed into an identical duck wing. Bridget dropped her ledger and it clanked on the floor.

“Wha … What is happening? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it. It’s the magical realism, Bridge. Google it later but not right now. What I’m trying to say is that I think I love you. No, I’m hopelessly in love with you. I want to spend every single moment of my life with you. I want to have children with you. I already bought the four-French door refrigerator in stainless steel, and you can have the whole bottom drawer for all your meats. I want to grow old with you and complain about our aching joints together.”

His tennis shoes sprang off his body, revealing two large orange webbed duck feet.

“Is this some sort of prank? Am I being recorded?” she asked. She took off her cap and hastily smoothed her hair down, her eyes glancing around for cameras. Then she glanced back at the man who was turning into a duck. At the sight of his feet and wings, she contemplated pinching herself. Despite the feathers and duck feet, he had a strong jawline and adorable wavy brown hair. She’d worked at this butcher shop for three years, and he was the first man to ever hit on her.

“Bridget,” he continued getting down on one knee. “I know this is fast, but would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?” He clasped the tips of his wings together in supplication.

Bridget stared at him blankly as his mouth and nose transformed into a long, large duckbill, and his eyes shrank back into the sides of his head, which suddenly became covered with metallic green feathers.

She paused, staring at this seventy-percent duck, thirty-percent man creature, and weighed her alternatives. She could live alone for the rest of her life or consider what this man was offering her right now.

“I don’t even know you. How old are you? Are you employed? Do you live with your mother?”

“Bridge, I don’t have that much time, but I’m 32 years old. Yes, I’m employed, marketing, and no, I live in an apartment. I also spend my free time raising money for charities like St. Jude and Make-A-Wish. I cook a delicious mushroom cheese quiche. Make me happy by flying off into the sunset with me.”

Bridget eyed Henry with suspicion. Was he telling the truth? And even if he wasn’t, what was life anyways but a series of choices until eventual death? Wasn’t life too short to give up a man who would literally turn into a duck for you? She thought of Alfred Lord Tennyson “Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

Taking off her apron, she said, “Okay, Duck Man, let’s go.” And she slid over the counter and embraced her feathered lover, and they flew out the door together.

 

Abby Yuan is a rising senior at Dougherty Valley High School. She’s an animal lover who intends to one day become a veterinarian. In her free time, she likes to bake cakes, write stories, and argue with her brother and father over scientific theories.

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