Fall 2015 Class Portfolios

Apothecary (part 2)

salingdc — Mon, 11 Jul 2016 15:37:29 +0000

Master Jonathon Thomas Larison, silver haired and renowned as a legend for his work as an apothecary and alchemist, was sitting in the muck like a pouting toddler. Arms splattered with mud hung limp at his sides as he sat hunched, not even caring that his clothes were soaked through. Simon went and knelt next to his master, brushing clumps of wet dirt out of his hair. “I’m ruined, boy,” he said after a while with an empty gaze aimed towards the ravaged wagon. “Those ingredients took me a lifetime to obtain. I’m too old to start over. I have nothing left but this.” He took a small journal out of his breast pocket and held it in his lap. He looked at it unfeelingly. “What use is having an apprentice if I have nothing left to teach him?”

“It’s okay, Master Jon. You can just teach me from your notes,” Simon said with what he hoped was an encouraging smile. Seeing the proud, unrelenting man he knew act like this and covered in mud was even more disconcerting than the attack. “You’ve written everything you discovered in those pages, I don’t need to practice to learn it.”

Master Jon slowly shook his head. “The scribblings of an old man mean nothing if you cannot practice. A page can only tell you so much– you must experience it for yourself if you truly wish to learn.”

Apothecary (part 1)

salingdc — Sat, 09 Jul 2016 15:24:56 +0000

The attack was over in seconds. The bandits vanished into the woods just as quickly as they had appeared, taking everything of value and leaving the two travelers in the mud. Simon got up and wiped the earth off of his face, angry with himself for letting those vermin overpower him like that. He went over to the wagon and looked through what they had left– one sleeping bad, a few parcels of food, a water pouch, an empty crate, and a small handful of herb bottles stamped into the dirt. They had taken everything. “I hope you blow yourselves up,” he cursed into the shadows. Hearing a splat, he whipped around, ready to defend whatever they had left. He dropped his fists when he realized the sound came from his traveling companion.

Light

salingdc — Tue, 05 Jul 2016 23:48:36 +0000

Excited energy explodes in a fountain of light. Twisting and turning, shimmering and shining, they fly up towards the heavens to brighten the world and the faces that gaze. Their splendor is muted in a vain attempt at hiding their power. But it’s no use, they take on a new tone and burst forth anyway. Red lightning streaks through the clouds. Blue lightning, white lightning, contrast behind the proud monolith. A glowing haze lights the symbol in silhouette. Standing tall and dignified, nothing can knock it down. It was put there for a reason, and that reason can never be diminished, never be destroyed. It will forever be defended, for that reason will always be worth it.

Alone

salingdc — Tue, 28 Jun 2016 22:04:06 +0000

There were days when I used to feel numb, because I was avoiding even worse feelings. I told myself that I had no reason to be feeling the way I did. I had a home, I had friends, I had a loving family. Nothing really was wrong with my life. But telling myself this never really helped. When I got the chance to be by myself, my smile would fade. Everything I’d built up to keep people from worrying would crumble. It was then that I could feel the shadow curling around me, cutting me off from the rest of the world. But then you came. You slipped under my walls, you pushed through the shadow like it wasn’t even there, and you shone. You shone bright enough to keep the dark tendrils from edging their way back into me. You shone whenever you looked my way, actually looking into me rather than at the shell I’d put up. You shone whenever you held me in your arms, engulfing me, protecting me from those worse feelings. You shone whenever you loved me, making that darkness completely irrelevant. But now when you’re gone, the shadows creep back, your light on the other side. I light a torch from you, but it’s nothing compared to your sun. I find myself dreading when I revert to my old ways of handling the shadows. The walls, the distance, the numbness. I hold out my torch and see you through the fog. I know you’re doing all you can to keep my torch lit, but as the mist thickens so do my walls, and my biggest fear comes closer and closer to fruition. That they will harden completely, with you on the other side.

Numb

salingdc — Sun, 19 Jun 2016 22:27:46 +0000

Have you ever felt weak? That lifting your arm was too hard? You don’t want to move, but don’t know why? You know that you can do something, that you have no reason to not be able to. But you just… can’t. Do you ever feel like your body is storing up all your strength, but won’t let you use any right now? That you have the power but not the energy? You hoard your energy under lock and key, leaving you breathless with lungs full of air. The world spins around you and without you and you seem to be somewhere else. Your mind is like a castle, with walls and a citadel. But no longer are your gates open, your consciousness pushing the boundaries. No longer are you hiding behind your walls, locked in your citadel or manning the cannons. No, instead you seem to be absent from it all. A birds’ eye view of your castle, saying “That should be me,” “That’s how I’m supposed to be.” You may be with those around you, but you aren’t with them. You feel guilty because people start to worry. You put on a mask of your old face. You create a paper castle while wind whistles through your real one. But the paper never lasts, nor does your mask. Have your ever tried to drag yourself back to yourself? But no matter how far you go, it always turns out to be another mirage.

Mountain

salingdc — Fri, 17 Jun 2016 15:51:13 +0000

The world shimmered as he turned around. There’s something about thin air that makes everything clearer, he thought. The grass was green, the flowers bloomed, and not a cloud was in the sky. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes in the morning light. He exhaled and hiked up his pack, setting off up the steep trail. By midday, he had left the bright colors of below behind. Surrounded by rocks and crags, grayed out hues littered the landscape. Every now and then a tree greeted him enthusiastically, proclaiming its triumph over its conditions. And still he followed the path…

Frozen

salingdc — Thu, 16 Jun 2016 15:53:42 +0000

He never knew being surrounded by this many people could leave him feeling so alone. Cars, bikes, and taxis filled the streets, intent on their destination. People lined the sidewalks, heads down, collars folded up against the wind that tore through the buildings like a tsunami. Vendors were bundled up, hats pulled tight over their ears, protecting them from the ice falling sideways from the sky. Yet with all this commotion, there was no life. No glances were sent around, no gruff “morning”s, no nods of acknowledgement, no drivers telling cars to “move it,” nothing. Though the wind blew and the hail pounded, nobody moved. It was as if someone had pressed pause on the world and he didn’t get the memo. He walked through the forest of people, searching for someone to look back at him, but no one ever did. He was alone in a sea of people. He grimly laughed, remembering something his grandfather once said—”Water water everywhere, but not a drop to drink.”

Asylum

salingdc — Wed, 15 Jun 2016 15:48:13 +0000

He was going back to a place he’d hoped he’d never see again. The high walls, the stone buildings, the metal gates. No one ever talked about it, but it was a prison. No. He’d been in prisons before, he’d much rather be going there instead. This place made those nightmares seem like paradise. This was hell in white-washed rooms. Faces always stared, voices a hushed murmur. They would look on in disgust, hatred, apathy. Rumors spread faster than the plague. Those he could handle. Those he was used to. What killed him though were the fake smiles, and they were all fake. He could see it in their eyes. Eyes full of pity, of contempt. They treated him like a broken creature needing to be fixed. They felt sorry for him! Oh, how he would love to scoop out those sorry little eyes and sew shut those seethingly fake smiles, but his arms were wrapped around him, and soon enough they would shut him in his room and throw away the key. No leaving for him. No time off for good behavior, no possibility of escape. Only beady glances and muttered words. A sentence of life in hell.

Time flies when you’re having fun

Corrin Lundquist — Tue, 16 Feb 2016 00:04:43 +0000

It’s official. I’m now in my second semester as a junior and have no more excuses. Throughout my first two years, I always heard “oh you’ve got plenty of time to figure it out!” Last semester, I heard it a little less, but adults were still reassuring me.

Then I got the dreaded email. “Don’t forget to apply for your degree!” stared back at me one Thursday afternoon, after having just gotten home from my American Literary History class. “But I’m only a junior!” I tried to reason with myself. I still haven’t ordered my class ring. Most of my friends have already tried theirs on, but I haven’t even been to see the ladies at the student center.

But here I am still, only 2 and a half semesters left. Where has the time gone? I distinctly remember my freshman self looking at a four-year planner, completely overwhelmed. Four YEARS at this place? Four years was a long time!

I guess time flies when you’re having fun.

A Poem

macsrigg — Fri, 05 Feb 2016 04:45:35 +0000