The Bunker Kid_I Am Me: Everything and Nothing_The Girl Who Walked on Water_The Poetry of Earth
Catalog Guide:
The Bunker Kid
My parents were teenagers during ‘The Great Toilet Paper Shortage’ of 2020. Or that’s what my mom called it. My father called it, ‘The Year of Disaster’ or the YoD for short. They like to tell me how some of the population couldn’t handle a thing called ‘social distancing’ or wearing a piece of cloth in front of their face.I asked them if they were sad that they had to be apart for so long. And before my father could answer Mom jumped in with, “Best three years of my damn life!”“Nothing really changed for us,” my father said, “she was always on her phone messaging me.”That doesn’t sound ...
I Am Me: Everything and Nothing
I Am Me: Everything and Nothing By: Mackenzie M. HebnerYou don’t know me. And you never will. My name is of no consequence: only my words. The world won’t ever know my name, or see my face, or hear my story, or give me a second look. It will only ever, God willing, hear my words. I may never amount to anything. I may be alone forever, but I hope and pray my words live on past my inconsequential existence. Not so inconsequential, now that I’ve finally taken the leap to write things down. Now, I said the world would never hear my story, but that doesn’t mean I’m not about to tell it. You know, ...
The Girl Who Walked on Water
It was beautiful out on the day that Sam died. The sun was waning and casting an amber glow across the sky. Sam was walking home from his afternoon classes and had his headphones on, and an old Jay Z playing on repeat when he happened to be passing a river that flowed right under the main highway. Sam paused as he caught sight of a cara mocha skinned girl kneeling by the riverbank. His eyes had never been that great but he could make out that she was wearing the blue shirt and grey skirt that were the uniform at his school, and though she had her head turned away from him there was something f...
The Poetry of Earth
“Nature always wears the colors of the spirit.” - EmersonNew York is a city that imprints itself upon your soul. Once you enter the concrete juwww.onedoor.ccngle, a part of you will be tethered to the unforgiving brick and steel for as long as you survive on Earth. For the past five years, my days have been filled to the brim with heated subway cars, crowded streets, and the terrible smell of humidity that’s somehow always mixed with weed. Sitting in the middle of a subway filled with way too many people, the screeching of the wheels on the tracks deafening to the ear, it’s absolutely ironic to think about ...