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Hallmarks 1998 F PDF

24 Pages·1998·23.9 MB·English
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w< o 2 T5 c 24cm PRAle.y Hallmarks Business Editor: Lauren Gaffney Layout Editor: Maria Gumina Assistant Layout Editor: Rachel Worrell \ Staff: Sara Beesly Margo Martin Andrea Mazer Martha Grace Orman Caroline Richardson AlyssaAbkowitz SarahAllen Kate Berry Megan Casey Molly Kaplan Anna Lappalainen Katie McKinley Elizabeth Mills Melissa Mosley Alice Orman Mary Cres Szarwark Special Thanks To: Katie Hill Rachel Bressman Steve Chapman Sponsor: Anne Dolittle CoverArt by Susan Harris (12) Table of Contents “Starting Overs - Catherine Carroll i... 0 ie. oh ae,1 et - Rate Jw: he nh a1 “Country Sunsets” - Kathleen Serck . v0 devia,2 Addict” - Tricia MeWilllams ©. 0. oon vr hs veins satis3 Boye= Maria GUIANA: x. oi she ri isin 5 ii Soret er ois4 “Pyramus and Thisbe” - AlyssaAbkowitz .....................6 “Room 419” - Maria Guming 6. es ins she in6 “Mother Winter” - Lindsay Scruggs... . ho omnes ss7 Nagi- Catherine Carroll ©... ou ci ai a tie br a din8 aces Sara AOI i nh ee Sere hd RR a9 “Independence Day” - AlyssaAbkowitz ......................11 - Cagoy “i. uteri a ine aiid shin 414] “Fade” - Martha Grace Orman... oo tre vs ann nis12 “For Lee” Jessica Crowell oo. oi... vinnie vd doit Sines13 “So Where's the Frigate?” - Caroline Richardson ...............14 “MyAlways Brilliant Brother” - Molly Kaplan . . ...............15 Pink Meean Casey i oa. on LE Re i ee dela ds16 “StealingWishes” - Rachel Worrell... ... . 2... .. 0. 0...17 “Armg ofMidnight” - Maria Gumina 2... oc cic onl visto lit wie17 wo = ANCE Orman. sie a us ae18 “Rearview Mirror” «Rate Berry. oi. Gi vu. oa ooh idan wi An hd,20 Art by: Maria Gumina Susan Harris Jessica Lunden Margo Martin Laurel Staples Rachel Worrell starting over i cherish the pureness in newbeginnings; an untouched canvas notyet marredby inevitable mistakes. still, it's impossible to start over on days like these; some faint outlines seem to linger with the hope ofindecision. i can feel the warm air coatingmy skin like thickpaint, wrappingaround me and slowly spreading until it reminds me ofyour presence. blue skies, likeyour eyes, they followme in dreams. their color is reflected in the raindrops falling, fallingquietly. i'm forcedto re-live atime when hearingyour voice was almost as good as the comfort ofyour embrace. i still hold on to the feelingofyour fingertips, and the way our lips once touched. yet in mymemories, we keep movingcloser, dwellingin the moment. today, you can find arainbow in the sky; amyriad ofcolors that embody my every emotion and paint apicture ofour most perfect kiss. Catherine Carroll (10) Duet In the evenings I can hear my mother Strumming her guitar But not alone It is a duet Her voice wavers up To where I slouch It is crystal, clinking Bottles ofjoy And old Beatles music Fill the nightly silence. Kate Gregory (6) RachelWorrell (12) CountrySunsets I was thirteenthen. We had eaten an early supper, and I went out- side forthe country sunset. Hoppingthe rusted fence, runningbearfooted -- mytoes graspingat the loose dirtbelow me as ifI were five again grabbing blackberries to bringhome to mamafor her state fairwinningblackberrypie. Myhands not stainedblack, but a deep purple like the color ofthe sky at dusk. The horses I had once fedwithpieces ofcarrot out ofmytiny hand were grazingfrom the earth. How small myhandhadbeen. How large the horse. How gentle the nibble. The trees reminded me ofhow I would go exploringthrough thewoods for the waters ofthe secret stream. IfI were quiet, I couldwatchJesus walkers skim across the ripplingwaves and deer sip the clean, crisp water. I thinkofthe fawn who hadjumped abarringbarb wire fence. She hadtrust for her motherjust as I do for this familiar scene. As I sat there on ahaystackinmy cut-offoveralls, worn-out sandals, and wispyblondhair, I listened. The hay crinkledbeneath me, thebirds sang, andthe cows mooed, but itwasn't harmony. I listened harder. I could hear the hand carved rockingchair squeakingwhile I wiggled in mama's lap. I could hearthe porch creek as my grandmother paced to the familiar tune, as ifcarriedbyits every note. My grandfather's lips pressed to the harmonica as hebelted out, "Rocky Top." Thewrinkles in his face movedwith everybeat. Hisbreath purgedthe sins ofthe day. His pale lips seemedto take in every- thingthe red harmonicahad to say. It could tell stories ofearly animal feed- ings and grandma's hot offthe grillbreakfasts: cheese grits, "pigs in ablan- ket," and her hotcakes stacked amile high. I can hear these stories now as I reach into my front overall pocket and pull out the wagon-coloredharmonica. I raise the worn instrument to mylips, savoringthe taste ofgrandpa's teach- ings. I lookup atthe country sunset andbeginto play a duet. Kathleen Serck (10) Addict I’m an addict, And he is my drug. See, whenyou start, you never think it could happen toyou- Thatyou'll be one ofthose people you hear about in the lunchroom who got Screwed overbecause they couldn't quit. You thinkyou're stronger than that-how couldyou ever be so out of control? But it's so subtle-so hard to detect. : And everytimeyou were feelingempty, it only took that one word, that one sweet Gesture to makeyou high-to make the hurt go away, iffor only a little While,just his smile makesyou forgetyou were ever in pain. And after awhile, it madeyou numb. You didn't care ifit hurt or ifyou were happy anymore becauseyou couldn't do anythingto change it. It's a never-endingcycle, an emotional roller coaster that leaves you drained ofall feelingwhen it's over. And that one momentyou decide it has to stop-that's the moment you realize- You're addicted. The invisible bond to him that has been formingin side ofyou ever since that first "I loveyou," or that memory ofhim thathas embedded itselfin your heart- You never knew about it until now. That either roadyou choose from here on will bringyou pain becauseyou knowyou can't live with him andyou can't live without him. And it hurts like hell. So you plunge the needle inyour vein one more time-try to fillyour selfwith all Those bittersweet memories- Remembrances ofwhat it was like to feel high. ‘ High offhis love. Andjustwhen it seems like everythingis closingin onyou-like your heart has been wrenched so tight thatyou could stop breathingat any given second You have that moment. The momentyou seeyourselfin the bottom ofthat black, hopeless pit Sinkingdeeper in the waters ofyour self-destruction, Beggingdesperatelyforyour drug, You realizejust whatyou have become because ofyour addiction- Andyou setyourself Free. TriciaMcWilliams (11) JcnLunden (11) Boys Boys imitate what they love: hats like their father's, breeches to make them thinkofgrandpa, andhalfunfastened suspenders -- all their own. Theytap their shiny shoes and grin at one another out ofthe corners oftheir eyes smirking at their dirty-faced, gigglingshadows that are attached to the soles oftheir cockyfeet. Todaytheboys playgrown-ups, but tomorrow the shadowless menwill not remember the rhythm in shiny shoes andthe freedom ofloose suspenders. Maria Gumina (12) (12) Margo Mart1n PYRAMUS AND THISBE Night filled with angelic stars and dusty skies, blockedby assumed suspicions. My coldbreath frostedwindows, yours a little late scrapingstones withblistered hands. Hearts, blood pounding into snowyroots now stained by one lick, one bite ofinnocence curledup in caves ofshades. You came in minutes, not seconds fillingpresumptuous shreds, crimson. Pained, chilled air ofashen novas shining in midnight skylines brought impulsive endeavors ofanguish. You wither, plunged hatred into groins I emerged from solitude, intense ached stingwithyour dagger blood-filled, love-filled, death-filled. Una duos noxperdet amantes. Now dyed scarletberries remain with us, combined mixedblood andflesh dyedby anxious liaisons seeped into small treed mulberries. AlyssaAbkowitz(11) Room 419 Fay sat outside the bathroom door, dramatically twiddlingherpudgy thumbs and sighingimpatiently. She coughed loudly as a humid fogescaped from the bathroom and Fay's blue eyed sister emerged from the mist. "Uhh! You've been in there for hours," Fay exaggerated. She glared at theback ofher sister's head for a moment and then stomped into thebathroom, yankingthe door closedbehind her. Determined, now, to take her time, she investigated the contents of the unfamiliar room. She tore the wrapper offathin square ofblue soap and held it to her nose. Mmmm. It smelled like Daddy. She wondered ifhis aftershave was blue too. There was nothingvery interestingunder the sink: toilet paper, Kleenex, and more tiny wrapped squares ofblue soap. Next Fay stepped onto the toilet seat and opened a double-doored cabinet. A smile flashed onto her face as she ran her fingers over the bumps and lumps ofthe clean towels. Theywere a deep shade ofpurple; deeperthan chocolate. Embroidered in the terrycloth, white letters spelled out Marriot Hotel. Faywrapped the towel majestically over her shoulders and metamorphazised into Queen Marriot, ruler ofthe enchanted land ofFay City. She looked into the still cloudymirror and, ignoringthebright green rubberbands and dull metal wires ofher 8 month oldbraces, decidedthat she lookedvery much like the ruler ofan enchanted city, although she had to admit she had neverreally seen one. "But even great Queens," she told herself, "must take theirbaths." Maria Gumina (12) 6 Mother Winter Slowly meltingicy,just like my mother Fragile without areason Freezingover my life, Don't really mind the coldness Sometimes It feels warmer than I'm used to Smilingeffervescent On the outside Tremblinginside Crying. Myvoice is growingnumb The coffee potboiled over Fingertips on fire Dancing, fiery girl Mother, you made me cry Eyelids frozen open, But nothingfalling. Jack Frost has entered the world He doesn't like myway Myvoice has moved too quickly I can't, I can't Saywhat I mean Mother. Don’tbelieve aword, Sorry when I hurtyou. I thought, I thoughtyou hurt me So I stayed ahead. And nowyour face is cold I want to warmyour nose now The way I remember, mittens, Warmedbythe snow. Your voice has moved away, You went and turned the light off Just to,just to Cover the darkness I had, remember where it was The car has stalled again, Hervoice is growingnumb Just in case, I can't, I can't Saywhat I mean. Lindsay Scruggs (12)

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Most books are stored in the elastic cloud where traffic is expensive. For this reason, we have a limit on daily download.