School started two weeks later. Gigi was already in her seat with her notebook, two pencils, an ermr. and her nametag neatly arranged on the desk when the bell rang. The other students filed in the room. laughing and talking about their summer. but Gigi sat quietly in her chair. smiling at Miss... Show moreSchool started two weeks later. Gigi was already in her seat with her notebook, two pencils, an ermr. and her nametag neatly arranged on the desk when the bell rang. The other students filed in the room. laughing and talking about their summer. but Gigi sat quietly in her chair. smiling at Miss Zetah. Katrina plopped down next to Gigi and grabbed her hands. “I pray for you every night when I go to bed,” Katrina said. Gigi stared straight ahead, smile intact. while she tried to pull her hands free from Katrina’s grip. “My mommy says your mommy is in Hell but i still pray for you because l'm a good Christian.” Gigi yanked her hands free from Katrina's grip, but in doing. to the fell out ofher chair. The whole class turned and laughed while she scrambled back in her seat. Gigi told her dad about everything that happened at school — everything except Katrina ~ over cookie dough Blizzards. When they finished their treat. they biked around Sunset. At the tpillway they threw molded bread to the geese and stopped again by the picnic shelter to help a turtle cross the path. All the other kids her age were on two-wheeled bikes. but Gigi still had training wheels. She knew how to ride without them. but the liked the crackling noise the training wheels made when she leaned too far to the side. like fire crackers in a coffee can. They circled the pond again before going back. Closer to home, Gigi spotted what looked like an owl’s nest high in the maple tree in Old Man Bill's yard. She jumped off her bike and starred into the yard. Gigi's dad. seeing his daughter in Old Man Bill's yard. dropped his bike in the middle of the road and ran to her. He grabbed her chin hard and turned her face up to meet his. "What did I tell you?" her dad said. not releasing his grip as Gigi tried to squirm away. Gigi squirmed. not meeting her dad's gaze. and started to whimper until she was released. “Gigi. Look at me." Gigi found a spot on the bike frame and refused to move her gaze. 78 “l don't want you going near Bill's house. okay? lt's iust not a place for kids,” her dad's face was stern. but his eyes were soft when he let go of her chin. He squeezed her shoulder before he picked her bike up and lifted her onto the seat. “Last one home is a mum egg!" Gigi squmled and peddled quickly up the street. her dad running close behind. Her classmates teased Gigi every day. They waited for Miss Zetah to leave the room. and then the boys would laugh and make faces while the girls poked her sides and pulled her pigtails. Gigi hid behind the bookshelves and hummed loudly until Miss Zetah came back in the room: everyone swooped back to their desks. Miss Zetah took Gigi behind her desk during recess. where the other children weren't allowed. and they did puzzles together. Miss Zetah had a warm smile that made Gigi feel safe. Gigi liked Miss Zetah. She always smelled like gingerbread cookies and had curly brown hair that bounced when she walked. like Gigi's hair. When her classmates poked fun of her, Gigi would tell Miss Zetah and the classmates would be put on timeout. She liked knowing she could get them in trouble. She never told her dad about her classmates. though. The fourth week ofschool. Gigi‘s dad wasn't waiting for her at the bus stop. He was supposed to take her to Sunset: it was Thursday and Thursdays they hiked to Sunset to look for owl nests with the binoculars. When she got in the house. she recognized Miss Zetah's coat. a red one with green buttons. on the couch. Gigi pulled her beanhag chair over to the basement door and got out a book. She wasn't allowed to go downstairs ifthe door was closed. She waited by the door, reading. until the sun started to set. They never came out. When the first star appeared. Gigi got her bike out of the garage and after a quick glance back at the house. peddled down the street. She heard moms yelling at kids to wash up for bed while dads stood in their front lawns talking about the Vikings game. Gigi peddled as Fast as she could, her feet flying off the pedals, and the wind rushed past her ears, blowing away the noise ofscreaming kids. Her shirt billowed up behind her. like Show less
said. But I ignored them. l backed up and came close again. When Dawn ruched out to toss another fish to Jojo. l pushed myself out of the water. towards not the fish. but the touch of Dawn's hand, my mouth open with effort. But I missed. landing heavily on the deck and slipping back into the water.... Show moresaid. But I ignored them. l backed up and came close again. When Dawn ruched out to toss another fish to Jojo. l pushed myself out of the water. towards not the fish. but the touch of Dawn's hand, my mouth open with effort. But I missed. landing heavily on the deck and slipping back into the water. I remember Dawn's eyes. wide with surprise and a hint of fear. body twisting back. After that they put me in the isolation pool. here. by myself under the pale moon. Once. before he died. Soli, my only friend, told me that the moon was the mother and the sun was the father. Why do they always runfiam each other? I asked. Don't they wont to be near? He didn't say anything. just pushed his head back down into the water. Let me tell you something about love: what 1 have for Dawn is love. While I am floating in the tank l realize this. l love her like l love no one else. My love is limitless. like the infinite ocean of memory. There is this trick that we do together where the bangs just below the water and i go down deeper to the bottom of the pool. Then I shake my tail and swim up fast and the grabs onto my head and we burst out into the air together. l crash back heavily and Dawn flies on. launched into an arcing graceful dive. The audience cheers wildly. but I don't care for them. I care only for Dawn: her touch. her closeness, bugging me tight as we shoot upwards into the endless sky. l have a thought. Love is bigger than everything; it exists outside of time and space. Even in loss love does not dull. It grows stronger. How is that possible? Can we really ever be truly lonely ifwe are able to love? I want to tell Melani (his. Do not worry that Lassa is gone because your love for him will survive. I think she will hurt me though. ifl say this. Once a man hid in the pool area overnight and when everyone left. he came out. He lingered at the edge of the pool with his hand in the water. 1 came up to him slowly and he reached out and stroked my back. I could tell he was scared. his hand shaking as he touched me. He made me anxious. his nerves against Dawn's gentle. i moved away and swam in small circles. He undressed, his pale body ghostly in the darkness. and he climbed into the pool with me. l came close. trying to shepherd him out. He climbed onto my back and I turned. '5’: slipping him offeasily. He reached for me again. trying to climb back on, and i took his arm in my mouth. He began to struggle and thrash in the water and I held on tighter. His arm came olfin my mouth and I swallowed it. He screamed and I took hold ofhim again. When they found him. they put me in isolation for a long time. But love is stronger than fear. Stronger than loneliness or anything else. I know this now. The new day breaks bright and clear. I am released out of isolation into one ofthe performance pools. The sun is burning and high in the sky. washing a summery warm light over the surroundings. Melani is quiet. moved away from the crowds to a sheltered side pool. l am freed from her crying. People mill in the stands. their clothing colorful and flashy. voices an excited chorus. A voice booms and crackles above. Killer Win/es! Amazing Frzmfl can hear jojo and Kalia and Maku chattering to each other as l swim below the surface in an adjacent pool. I am glad to be away from them. When Dawn enters. her blond hair trailing. waving to the crowd, a relief breaks over me. For a moment I feared she was not coming, that l had scared her and it would be someone else. I swim to her and open my mouth wide in a grin of sheer happiness. She tosses me fish and i am hungry and I eat ravenously. She signals me to do tricks. to turn this way and that, to balance. to splash my tail and wet the crowd. Everyone cheers and l perform for Dawn, with love. But after a while i get bored and concerned. She tosses me fish. but I don’t care for fish anymore. Dawn is not getting in the water with me. She stays away from the edge of the pool. Came swim with me, Dawn, 1 say. pushing my head out of the water and up onto the edge of the pool. But Dawn looks away from my eyes. like she wants to be somewhere else. She waves to the crowd and reachtx for another fish. The fish slips to the deck and she leans down. I take hold ofher hair and l pull her towards the pool. She struggles and then she slips and she is in with me. i hear the crowd gasp and then we are under the water. Dawn and me. It is quiet below the surface and l push us deeper, down to the bottom. She is still struggling. Show less
eyes. It was in his detached stare I found the Bill I remembered. The same icincss had radiated from the man who had listened calmly as I told him his daughter wasn't coming back. From the man who had spit in my face. Whose spit had taSted like whiskey, had burnt my eyes like whiskey. From the... Show moreeyes. It was in his detached stare I found the Bill I remembered. The same icincss had radiated from the man who had listened calmly as I told him his daughter wasn't coming back. From the man who had spit in my face. Whose spit had taSted like whiskey, had burnt my eyes like whiskey. From the man who had said nothing but “Keep the whore." We slid into the booth across from Bill. A pair of 2x4's masquerading as cross country skis crossed each other on the wall above him. Mae's face was a pracriced shade of stone. They clenched their teeth at one another. a familial Morse code displayed in their jaw muscles. “Why are we here." Bill said. “You're sick.” Mae said. "I'll stay with you." “No.” I said. Bill glared. Mae glared. “We found you a home." Mae continued. “Providence Place." “It's nice.” I said. resentful it was true. jaws clamped and relaxed. In the silence. I knew he knew we were sending him there to die. I had been at Mae's mother's funeral. Mae had taken me to a little diurch surrounded by city street and dragged me into a nave that smelled of claustrophobia and car exhaust. A crying baby in a black onesie bounced on his or her mother's knee near the door. Mae brought me to front pews and knocked aside two signs that said Reserved for family. A couple hundred pairs ofcyes. and maybe even god. watched as l sat in Bill's vacant spot. Portraits of Mae's mother balanced on tripods next to a closed casket. She was alone in every photograph. A portly pastor stood up front. “May her sleep go undisturbed until the return ofChrist." he said. It was our first date. Bill's funeral was scarcely populated in comparison. Maybe it was karma. Maybe it was that Bill's body had been found next to an empty bottle ofboth scotch and an opiate used in the treatment of restless leg syndrome. Churches and their congregations tended to frown on suicide. 38 Mac. Alessa and I walked through an empty nave to the front row. We were late. An austere man in a charcoal suit and oval wire frames eulogized Bill. “Bill was a man ofgrat character.” he said. “and deeply felt resolve." l wanted nothing more than to share Mae's stories. thow she had skipped school in fourth grade because blood had soaked through the back of her shirt where Bill had flogged her with a hose. thow she had lost three teeth when Bill smashed in her face with a book. thow whenever I saw Bill or heard these stories. I couldn't help but imagine how the wounds must have looked on a girl so young. how they would have looked worn by my daughter. Alcssa laid her head on my shoulder. If Bill was still alive. maybe I would have stormed up to the front and made sure people knew. But. somehow. Mae had been strong enough to relegate Bill's transgressions to the past. to view the memories through a frosted window instead of binoculars. The horrors were still there, But they were outside. and their edges softened. Mae was the only one who had a right to talk. And when the man finished speaking. she gave my hand a squeeze and took her spot in the pulpit. “He was loved," she said. “It took a long. long time. But in the end. he was loved." She was stronger than all of us. We saw Bill the night he died. Mae insisted we visit him once a week. I figured it would only frustrate us ifwe kept tabs on his progress. "Progress?" she asked. I'Never mind." I said. She left me alone and went upstairs to get ready. Alessa's backpack was laid in the middle of the hallway. I looked through it. Among books and little notcs was a flier for “Band- stravaganu.” The flier featured a picture ofa man with a spiky mo—hawk in nothing but a black Speedo among band names such as "Rabid Whale" and “Step Stool Porno." Alessa came down the stairs. Her t«shirt had “Authority” written on the front in blocky letters. the whole thing crossed out by an anarchy symbol. I asked her ifshe was ready to go. Show less
Looking in the minor illuminates my fears I am the girl who needs a man to tell her that she's pretty 7 I don't give myself the option ofmaking choica about him 1 allow him to make choices for me. I ache and plead to be controlled. Became that means that he mes. Right? [cling too closely to see... Show moreLooking in the minor illuminates my fears I am the girl who needs a man to tell her that she's pretty 7 I don't give myself the option ofmaking choica about him 1 allow him to make choices for me. I ache and plead to be controlled. Became that means that he mes. Right? [cling too closely to see anything real. I plead at his feet to like me, Not because he's hautiful Or a goddamn martyr But because I'm weak And at his feet is where I think I thould be. I'm willing to wear his hmisu. And late myself in anxiety. I ditmiu all of the red. yellow. and orange flags. While 1 wave my flag ofwhite. Surrendcring to all he is. And all he wants. Starving until I'm everything And nothing, But the ashes from last night's cigarette. l2 Show less
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Editor in Chief: Tina Monje Associate Editor: Mary Klecker Poetry Editors: Patrick Werle 8c Rowan Smith Prose Editors: Michelle Devens 8t Lia Jacobson Art Editors: Emily Bauermeister St Joe Vokracka Layout Editor: Joe Vokracka Faculty Advisor: Cary Waterman Cover Art: Lia Jacobson... Show moreACKNOWLEDGMENTS Editor in Chief: Tina Monje Associate Editor: Mary Klecker Poetry Editors: Patrick Werle 8c Rowan Smith Prose Editors: Michelle Devens 8t Lia Jacobson Art Editors: Emily Bauermeister St Joe Vokracka Layout Editor: Joe Vokracka Faculty Advisor: Cary Waterman Cover Art: Lia Jacobson Jens Pinther (guest editor) Augsburg Day Student Government English Department Faculty Art Department Faculty Augsburg Echo Printed by lvy Arts Copy & Print Bound by Smart Set Digital Design & Print Show less
Not have on my hands From when I fell to my knees Because you left us in this whirl And every fucking day I wonder what would have happened If. And what ifyou were my own younger sibling Who lives? What ifI knew you Before you died Better than I know you after. We are well-acquainted But you... Show moreNot have on my hands From when I fell to my knees Because you left us in this whirl And every fucking day I wonder what would have happened If. And what ifyou were my own younger sibling Who lives? What ifI knew you Before you died Better than I know you after. We are well-acquainted But you never heard my name And (sometimes) when I want to Die as loudly and as impulsively As you did I think of you And how your very last action On this wide earth Out of thousands, millions ofgoodness before it, Was a mistake. Show less
soldiers. 'lhey passed out ofsight, but the last soldier stopped in front of Margaret’s house. Margaret immediately jumped up and pointed the gun at him. “We don’t want no trouble!" Margaret shouted. The soldier waved for the two ofthcm to follow. “Here What I said.> Move along!" Margaret yelled... Show moresoldiers. 'lhey passed out ofsight, but the last soldier stopped in front of Margaret’s house. Margaret immediately jumped up and pointed the gun at him. “We don’t want no trouble!" Margaret shouted. The soldier waved for the two ofthcm to follow. “Here What I said.> Move along!" Margaret yelled again. William stood up and told the soldier to keep moving, but the soldier stood waving. Margaret took a step forward, cocked the gun, and gave the soldier a final warning. When he didn't move, she fired. William grabbed the gun from Margaret and shouted at her, but she was staring wide-eyed at the soldier. Margaret was a good shot. Hcr daddy taught her to sh00t with a shotgun when she was six years old and Jack taught her how to shoot many different guns after Dam Day. She never missed. But the soldier was still standing at the bottom of her stairs, waving. Margaret could see a small hole above the soldier’s decorations smoking. “1 shot you," Margaret said as she slipped out ofWilliam's hands and down the steps. She tumbled down the stairs, landing face first on the dirt path, and scrambled up to the soldier. “I shot you!" she cried. William was halfway down the stairs, knife in hand, when the soldier waved frantically at the road. Margaret grabbed the soldier‘s hand and asked why he wouldn’t speak, but her hand slipped off. When she went to grab the soldier again, Margaret saw her own hand was covered in blood. She looked at William who had walked around the soldier and was looking at the back of his head. “What is it?“ Margaret cried. William pulled offhis hat and felt the back ofhis own head. “Margaret, we have to go," said William. Margaret asked where they had to go. The soldier started back down the road. “We have to go," William said again, looking down at Margaret's stomach. Margaret followed his eyes down and gasped. She gently pulled at the fabric on her dress to reveal the large tear across her abdomen. Show less
SHADOW Quinci Bachman A figure looms out of the corner of my eye—perhaps a gonc- ~ wicked smirk is both the figure's and mine. An air malevolent. valiant. yet perfunctory all the same. We charge fomard. teeth I am grit. A man turns the dim-lit corner——bad decision. We come 31°":- for him. 'lhunck,... Show moreSHADOW Quinci Bachman A figure looms out of the corner of my eye—perhaps a gonc- ~ wicked smirk is both the figure's and mine. An air malevolent. valiant. yet perfunctory all the same. We charge fomard. teeth I am grit. A man turns the dim-lit corner——bad decision. We come 31°":- for him. 'lhunck, thunek. rhunck. thunck. [F W UDI! Who else ‘3" I blame? We stop before him, arms stretched. hands grasped around his neck. l want to be sorry. but the rage is stronger. We pull him around by his neck. hands release. hands cleneh. nl‘uhmp! Fwapl Tunk.’ T a c h ft!“ He's on the ground. And. we stand together. I look at the looming figure. asking. “Why?” It falls out my mouth. as if pleading. I look down at the man. and the figure and I both loom over him. arms reaching to him once more and we drag him across the concrete sidewalk. His teeth scrape the ground. scraping away layer ofenamel by layer ofenamel. Thunmhk! A crack in the sidewalk. S e h r e e e t h ll Blood seeps. skin blistering. l look down at him once more and we come to a deadening understanding. A hotly. Lights out. No one's home. He's gone—a body. 'lhe blood quickly coagulatcs. gathering together like a final plea only to be brushed off. unwanted to the soulless. l am filled with regret. I run to his side. wiping away as much blood as I can with my bare hands. This isn‘t how it should be. Blood was never intended to meet the outside layers ofthc skin. I shake him. I shake the body. It's too late. I try to look back at the looming figure once more. asking. “Why?” 22 Show less
"Twenty two.” 'Shiiiiiiit. That's one over on medium. You getting sent to max. Your ass going to Stillwater." Stillwater. Sounds nice but isn't. They come in the morning, faces sagging pockmarked skin the color ofCheetos simmering behind their dark blue uniforms, replete with sergeant stripes and... Show more"Twenty two.” 'Shiiiiiiit. That's one over on medium. You getting sent to max. Your ass going to Stillwater." Stillwater. Sounds nice but isn't. They come in the morning, faces sagging pockmarked skin the color ofCheetos simmering behind their dark blue uniforms, replete with sergeant stripes and the authority vested in their vests. Hammy hands carrying chains and locle that strip me down and hang me from a rope ofsand and then I’m in a paddy wagon. just like on the TV, just like what was on the TV when she screamed, but it wasn't my fault. fato profogus. fan profugus... I sit next to Randy and listen and he describes eternity. His hands curl like melting clam shells and claw at his chest drawing blood as he speaks. Meaning doesn’t hold in here. it's made of a wooden wire and Donne was wrong no man's death diminishes me for I am an island and my ears have been cut and 1 cannot hear the bell toll. From waiting in jail to waiting in prison hurry up and wait and hurry up and wait. Faro Profugus. didn't ask for this never asked for this. Sing oh ye muses of the wrath of An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Weighted scales of gilded mrdboard and justice isn't blind and it knows I told a lie. I don't want to be here I don't want to be here I don’t want to be here I don't want to be here I don't want to be here I don't want to be here. Tinsel toned voice. Jesus speaks through cell block speakers. scratching his way through wires and switches and tells me to stand up because it's time for count. New day, or different day. new place. but not really. not really. Abandon all hope ye who enter here. Spiderman. the CO with the gazelle legs pulls the break. The gears slide. a well oiled drill. result of much practice. Teutonic in it's precision. The gears trip the metal locks. the bar doors slide open. lt's loud and sounds like breaking. it sounds like when theTV was pulled from the wall and then she was breaking. but not my fault. not my fault. can’t be my fault. But I'm not afraid. can't be afraid, fear is the mind killer. that's what my student told me when he was halfway in his cups and before they took me and made my name into a number. But the students are gone. replaced with savage tribes l8 ofGauls and Crips but I'm not afraid. can't be afraid. far is the mind killer. it calcifies and makes the mind brittle, ready to break, break like her neck when the glass and plastic came down and made an end. Not my fault, but (isn‘t think of fault. fault leads to fair. Remove the fear. pay the witch doctor for his metaphysiml surgery and never mind if he stetilizes his instruments because I‘m not afraid to die l say again l am not afraid to “It's a neeeeew daaaay." they‘re yelling again. won't shut the fuck up, stuck in seg and Still won’t shut the fuck up with the yelling and the fucking and the god damn monkey bars. I'm trying to do my bid, just do my bid. parole in 10. 15 or was it 20? Don't remember, something about good behavior. ain‘t stop to think/remember. can't stop to fur/regret just pay the witch doctor. pay the witch doctor. Good cellie though always good to have a good cellie. Best oellie yet. better than Catfish and Nutin' Nice. both bastards. spit on the floor, steal my commissary. saw the Fucker eating my Ramen noodles. Break his fucking face. break his flicking face. make him choke on his broken teeth. Gor sent to the hole. him to the hospital. lost good time. 10 years now or 50? Faro profugus, exiled to a desert ofconcrete lattice work. My mind is soft. nothing stays. But I'm hard. I say it to try out the word and feel it's corners. Cellie looks up. puts down the Steven King with the peanut butter on the cover. “Hard?” Shakes his head. doesn't agree, “Naw man, this world we be livin’ in. shit is soft. Aint got no edges. Aint no ends. no beginnings, just one thing into the next. You put your hand down on it. try to make your mark. but soon as you let go, shit just fills right back up. like you was never even there. We livin' in foam in here man. we livin' in foam." He rolls back over. Lazarus exhausted from the effort of rising. back into the soft world of paperbacks and commissary. But I can be hard. the mind must stay soft. but I will be hard. for l've paid the witch doctor. I will be an unfeeling. an unsoft. a blaring klaxon full of sound and fury. signifying nothing. Show less
Augsburg College Undell Ubrary Minneapolis. MN 55454 Dear Reader: Welcome to the 39th issue of Murphy Square. Augsburg College has had a literary and arts magazine since 192‘). but the magazine has been called Murphy Square only since I975. The writers and artists in this 2014 issue join all... Show moreAugsburg College Undell Ubrary Minneapolis. MN 55454 Dear Reader: Welcome to the 39th issue of Murphy Square. Augsburg College has had a literary and arts magazine since 192‘). but the magazine has been called Murphy Square only since I975. The writers and artists in this 2014 issue join all those published over the past 85 years in continuing the traditions ofexcellence in the arts at Augsburg. We hope you enjoy! Cary Waterman Murphy Square Faculty Adviser Show less
Wisconsin on the night train had warned me ofthat, Franct ca. \\'e‘d met on the crowded. dingy platform ofthe Mumbai train station. “\Vatch my bag while I go pee. will you?" was the first thing she‘d said to me. “You know where [0 find me." After her breasts and her culturally insensitive tight... Show moreWisconsin on the night train had warned me ofthat, Franct ca. \\'e‘d met on the crowded. dingy platform ofthe Mumbai train station. “\Vatch my bag while I go pee. will you?" was the first thing she‘d said to me. “You know where [0 find me." After her breasts and her culturally insensitive tight leggings. the first thing I noticed had been those red bumps on her skin. Poor girl. Cute. too. Big smile with those plump lips and wide eyes. mousy brown hair. But she wore her bedhug bites that covered her arms and legs like badges. She hadn‘t been back from the toilet for five minutes before she was telling me about how much her crotch itched. where the bedbugs had congregated in greater numbers, “Dirty. infested sheets at a cheap guesthouse are to blame. The bad ones never change their hedding.‘~ she said as we boarded the train. “\\'atch otit for those.“ It was sexy. the way she‘d said it without laughing. smiling though. and looking at Inc out ofthe corners oflier eyes. \\'e talked about our travel plans. \\'hat to see. \\'e compared Lonr'h' Plane/5 and flirted by exchanging college stories "keggers at old houses and halluci- nogens in the quad. American education. She was on her way to .\Ianali. Mont: with her bites. she showed me her callused hands and feet. crusty and weathered like pieces ofdried mango. Before I knew what I was doing I was rubbing her hands in tnine. feeling the hard. scaly skin on my fingers. She was a true traveler *one who didn‘t need shoes or hand lotion. She belonged in India. The wild expatriate with hands and feet made of leather. (firm/(ed. Her green eyes got even sweeter after we‘d shared that hash cigarette in between the train cars. near the bathroom. \\'e made fun ofthe improvised squatter toilet as we smoked. The thing was simply a hole in the floor ofthc train. hanging over the edge ofthe tracks a toilet bowl ofrushing gravel and railway. “\\'ouldn‘t want to fall into [/1111 toilet." she said as she as she blew smoke through her nose. India rushing by us in the humid. hazy night. \\'e laughed so hard that she dropped theJ as she tried to pass it to me. Something had happened after the spicy. Hitnachal I’radesh hash. made from cannabis grown in the foothills ofthe Himalayas. worked on our brains. and suddenly we couldn't stop staring at each other there on the platform between cars. She led me back into the train. to my cot in the sleeper car. She knew right where it was. \\'e would have ripped the damp clothing from each other backs like savages. but the curtains on the cot would not close all the way and our feet. though mine not as crust as hers. stuck ottt into the aisle. Not to mention we were sharing the car with a family ofBangladt-shis with six children. So instead, we read Rushdie to each other out loud. trading the .lltt/nig/il't (flu/[Inn and my headlamp back and forth all night. whispering the words into each other s cars and scratching her bedbug bites together, I traced them with my lingers and counted them. I got to 73 before I gave up the charade. “Four hands are so much better than two." she whispered. laughing quietly as I scratched the nape ofher neck with my fingers and teeth. “ed promised to meet in Calcutta in a week. I could write about het Francesca Focus. man! The night train is its own story, It will be written. But tonight is Diwali in Delhi. in one 0fthe most densely populated parts ofthe old part oftown. I need to get it down. This is why I had come. \Vith luck I could catch it. But how could I possibly give a voice to this most sprawling. noisy and polluted city "this most unhinged city in the worldl’ I give up for a time and fish through my backpack again to find my cigarettes. my pack ofSury' '. the local brand. I smack them against my palm to pack them. and walk out toward the balcony. Unlocking the chain with my key and pushing open the reluctant screen door. re\ Is the panorama ofMy India. There. on the sinalljut of crumbling concrete sits a plastic chair with a good 65 Murphy Square Show less
ICE FISHING Ellery Da'uis l's‘ually. the needle ix' inserted into the inside ol‘the elbow, whieh houses a hub of major ilt't‘ oldie skin‘ This time. I remembered to ask the eireul.’tlory interseetionx (lose to the sur nurse ilihe wouldn‘t mind putting the l\' in my forearm instead‘ not wanting a... Show moreICE FISHING Ellery Da'uis l's‘ually. the needle ix' inserted into the inside ol‘the elbow, whieh houses a hub of major ilt't‘ oldie skin‘ This time. I remembered to ask the eireul.’tlory interseetionx (lose to the sur nurse ilihe wouldn‘t mind putting the l\' in my forearm instead‘ not wanting a bent elbow to low the liattle to a straight needle yet again, 'Jel‘lithe nurx‘e lost the vein. like some people lose their place while reading The surface revealed no leadx'. lalie or other“ ise. Mere millimeters underneath. my vein dodged his needle like rererxe magnetizaiionulefl‘s eyes shifting across my forearm with an urgency that his \‘oiee didn‘t betray 215 the drip ol‘hlood dwindled and stopped in the yaeuum tube. The surlaee ol'my skin lh’h derided to li‘ame the turbulence that oeeurred under the x'urtar e. There ix’ a frozen pool ol‘purple and yellow that Iookx‘ like a morbid tattoo‘ It has already begun to melt. 16 Murphy Square Show less
Dear Reader: \\'eleome to the 3(3th issue (il‘hlurphy Square! Augsburg College has had a literary and arts magazine sinre 1929, but the magazine has been called Murphy Square only since [975. The writers and artists in this 2011 issuejoin all those published over the past 82 years in continuing... Show moreDear Reader: \\'eleome to the 3(3th issue (il‘hlurphy Square! Augsburg College has had a literary and arts magazine sinre 1929, but the magazine has been called Murphy Square only since [975. The writers and artists in this 2011 issuejoin all those published over the past 82 years in continuing the tradition oliexcellenee in the arts at Augsburg. Read and enjoy! (larv “'aterman Murphv Square Advisor Murphy Square would like to congratulate the winners and honorable mention ofthe 20H Engman Auard for exeellence in creative writing: \Yinners in F- ‘on: .lllt’lyJUlH‘NmZ "Old Things“ 'l'etl Conover: “Dance ol‘the Sharptail" \\'inner\' in Creative Non-Fiction: ‘ltulylohnson: “Mother Loved Turquoise" and “Alass for the Dead" \\'inners in Poetrv: Drew DeUenr-rrt Gav .‘\Ian “all-ting" and “Black Butterflies" lilix'e Estrada: “Fur” and “Holiday ‘ Sammie (lurk: “The Delphinium" Honorable Mention in Fietion: \ Dustin Heme: “Snow in Translation" Marilyn P£1('l{t‘lt “\Ve (Ian \Yalk Through a Corner" Honorable Mention in Creative Non-Fiction: \ Erie Moen: “l was at \\'tit)l§lot‘k“ ~Jayne Carlson: “No Regular Postrard" Honorable Mention in Poetrv: Belx'v Collins “it would be time for blooms" J11) ne Carlson' “Sestinas are \\'eird“ Dustvn Hessi “Big \\'ords“ 6 Murphy Square Show less
