dilute the specimen without contaminating it? Mike interrupted his train of thought as he pounded on the door. “\Nhat the hell's taking so long? You better not be trying to pull any shit over me - you hear?" In resignation, Damon pulled the envelope out of his pocket before he unzipped his pants... Show moredilute the specimen without contaminating it? Mike interrupted his train of thought as he pounded on the door. “\Nhat the hell's taking so long? You better not be trying to pull any shit over me - you hear?" In resignation, Damon pulled the envelope out of his pocket before he unzipped his pants and let them drop to the floor. \Vhen he was done, he put the lid back on the cup and placed it on the back of the toilet beside the envelope that held his release papers. As he bent over and started pulling up his pants, tears began streaming down his cheeks. He chocked back the sobs, turned on the sink water and splashed his face, washing away the evidence of his sorrow. He came out of the bathroom, handed the cup to Mike without looking at him and walked down the hall to the entertainment room. He ignored the hellos from his housemates as he walked directly through the room to the hallway beyond where a payphone stood out against a long bare wall leading to the rooms where the men slept. A gray metal folding chair sat beside the phone with yellow pages thrown on top. Damon pushed the phone book off the chair and against the wall with a slam and sat down. Damon sat for a long time on the cold metal folding chair staring at the pay phone with his back turned against the activity going on around him. Jason finally yelled out from the enter— tainment room, “How long are you gonna sit there, man? Some of us would like to use the phone tonight too." Damon slowly stretched his hand out to pick up the receiver and dialed the number. The woman's voice on the other end sounded distant and tired as she answered on the third ring and accepted the collect charges. Damon kept silent for that moment as he heard “Hello, Damon, honey...are you there? Did you get your release papers in the mail yet? Damon? What's the matter, baby? Hello?" "Yes, Momma, I'm here. We need to talk." Sharon Rolenc Show less
Some Twenty Minutes Jessie sat on the backs of her ankles, bent at the hips scouring the vomit stained carpet. The new trainee had gone out of the room to ease her throat convulsions that came on as she entered the doorway. The thick, stale air held last evening’s activities within its sad walls.... Show moreSome Twenty Minutes Jessie sat on the backs of her ankles, bent at the hips scouring the vomit stained carpet. The new trainee had gone out of the room to ease her throat convulsions that came on as she entered the doorway. The thick, stale air held last evening’s activities within its sad walls. 810 gin. Jack Daniels and Blatz empties littered the tiny room like shrapnel after an air raid. This was the final floor of the evening. She dropped the rag into the sudsy water bucket, sloshing it around releasing the larger. clinging pieces from its fibers. Her hands were a ruddy color, achy and swollen from the repeated motions of her trade. The mid-day sun peered through the faded gingham print. its ruffle too worn to stand proud. Glancing out through the aluminum screen door, Jessie could see the kid Katie. her forearms leaning against the second story railing, taking in the motel view; sadly looking like a worn out strip mall. She wondered how long this kid would stay, “Two months? A month? Three days? Yes. perhaps three days." As much as any kid needed ajob in this town, this one wasn't worth the trouble. It was hard work; one could barely clean a room in twenty minutes. It took Jessie five minutes with well— trained hands to get a good scrub out of these toilets, Show less
but she'd learned to cut corners. No more than two minutes on a sink and its hazy mirror. A shower could be plucked of tight wiry hair and wiped down in four. Three minutes was all that was needed with sponges under both hands on each the bathroom and the kitch— enette floor, and two minutes for... Show morebut she'd learned to cut corners. No more than two minutes on a sink and its hazy mirror. A shower could be plucked of tight wiry hair and wiped down in four. Three minutes was all that was needed with sponges under both hands on each the bathroom and the kitch— enette floor, and two minutes for the little icebox. A strong three minutes more was needed to change bed sheets, always with hospital corners. That usually left one minute for dusting and vacuuming. Easily, one could see that the dusting and vacuuming were con— fined to about two rooms on any given shift. Those with marginal debris would wait an extra day. But the toilets must have five minutes. “Everyone needed a clean toilet.” There was no getting around it in her Inind. Mrs. Harold didn't care much about cleanliness; she was more concerned with shaving off a nickel for each room readied. As long as she contained her time sheet tojust under eight hours, she and Mrs. Harold got along fine. She would be paid no overtime. But things were beginning to change; the kneeling and bending was beginning to catch up with her. Twenty— four rooms, five days a week for thirteen years — her body moaned as she shifted her weight. Her time was slowing. The kid walked in wiping the corners of her mouth, then paused slightly to rub her head. “Not in time," Jessie thought to herself wringing the cloth. “Two days, I bet she lasts two days." Katie crossed over Show less
sitting on the nearest kitchen chair. Its red vinyl squeaked as she shifted her weight, resting her upper body over the cool formica table. It didn’t matter that jobs were as scarce as there were working cars in this community. May was nearing and any sensible young person with a sturdy back... Show moresitting on the nearest kitchen chair. Its red vinyl squeaked as she shifted her weight, resting her upper body over the cool formica table. It didn’t matter that jobs were as scarce as there were working cars in this community. May was nearing and any sensible young person with a sturdy back would take to the fields for the summer. The pay was better, faces would tan, and picking beans among the smell of manure was a whole lot better than cleaning up behind a bunch of dogs. Jessie understood. She’d thought about leaving a few times, but now had been here so long that she was branded. There were no otherjob options for her. It was sort of like painting a house. Once you’d chosen that mustard yellow color and slopped it on the front two panels, you realized your mistake, but it really did— n’t matter. It was too late. The color was on, and it was a matter of course - you just stuck it out. Out of high school, she'd had big dreams to get out, had to, just needed to get some cash together, get a car, and move on. That cash never came. Within a year, her belly was swollen, and she had to do what she could to prepare for parenting. At least what had been swim— ming in her belly had better sense than she did. It saw what was coming and aborted itself before the third trimester. Show less
"Grab me a dry towel would you?" Still bent over, Jessie heard the screen door squeak and then slam. The kids rubber soles called back “fool, fool" as her shoes moved against the plastic green runner. The door had no sense but to repeat its words as her pale assistant passed through walking back... Show more"Grab me a dry towel would you?" Still bent over, Jessie heard the screen door squeak and then slam. The kids rubber soles called back “fool, fool" as her shoes moved against the plastic green runner. The door had no sense but to repeat its words as her pale assistant passed through walking back over and dropping the towel down by her ankles. Jessie checked her watch, as Katie looked on. Ten min— utes she’d been at it, and still had to change the sheets and scrub the bathroom. The rest could wait for anoth— er day. She’d purposely left the bathroom for last, as it felt relatively tidy, tidy, that is, considering the state of the larger room. Katie wasn‘t going to be of any more help - none of her color had come back yet; the vile smell held tight in the air. Twelve minutes had passed and with the disposal of the bottles, the physical signs of someone's poor beverage choices had vanished. “Kid, get the window open. \Ne’ve got to get that stench out of here." Katie's feet shuffled past all the time mocking her in the same fashion as before. She had fourteen minutes of work left in this so—called suite, and only eight minutes of time she thought rais— ing herself, scratching at her knees trying to remove the shag imprint from her skin. Katie had managed to get the window up and she now hung her head out of the opening like a dog enjoying an open—air car ride. Jessie still needed to go down to 53 Show less
the linen closet to get a replacement bedspread. Although it had been a long time, she still knew the smell of the act, which had taken place atop the bed. Its evidence taunted her, knowing that she had not yet had a consenting sexual experience. She shuddered dropping the stained cover to the... Show morethe linen closet to get a replacement bedspread. Although it had been a long time, she still knew the smell of the act, which had taken place atop the bed. Its evidence taunted her, knowing that she had not yet had a consenting sexual experience. She shuddered dropping the stained cover to the floor. Glancing at her wrist. the face on her watch spoke volumes, yelling out Mrs. Harold's name with each movement of the second hand. Four minutes would never complete this room. \Valking to the bathroom she again scratched at her knees peering below her skirt hem. The marks would— n't leave her. They were burrowed in for the long haul. Her badge. her penitence for her sins, she should have left. Jessie's right arm lugged the scrub brush and cleaners, rubbing against Katie as she tried to eke past. The kid had found her place: she was not leaving the windowsill. Peering over the toilet, Jessie examined the work before her. The brush hung in her fingers swaying back and forth to the ticking of the second hand. She leaned over, vomit spewing, making sure she at least hit the bowl. Cynthia Truitt Lynch Show less
Time (A Sonnet) Time goes quickly past Never stopping for a breath; Who knows how long it will last For time has no life or death. Winds of Change blow throughout history— VVe'rejust a simple human being. In our lives time is a mystery— For we don’t know its meaning. From today ‘til tomorrow, Our... Show moreTime (A Sonnet) Time goes quickly past Never stopping for a breath; Who knows how long it will last For time has no life or death. Winds of Change blow throughout history— VVe'rejust a simple human being. In our lives time is a mystery— For we don’t know its meaning. From today ‘til tomorrow, Our lives slip slowly by. Parting is such sweet sorrow As our souls fly high. History now, forgotten then, Time is now and always has been. Alexis Athmann Show less
WE’VE LEFT THIS SPACE FOR YOU!! NOW YOU TOO CAN BE IN THE MURPHY SQUARE. WRITE YOUR PIECE IN HERE — SHOW YOUR FAMILY, SHOW YOUR FRIENDS! THEY’LL BE SO PROUD.
Augsburg College Lindell Library Minneapolis, MN 55454 Special Thanks: Flaire Print Communications, Inc., Norman Holen, Kristin Anderson, and the rest of the Art Department, John Mitchell and the rest of the English Department, Boyd Koehler, and anyone else who listened to us complain about this... Show moreAugsburg College Lindell Library Minneapolis, MN 55454 Special Thanks: Flaire Print Communications, Inc., Norman Holen, Kristin Anderson, and the rest of the Art Department, John Mitchell and the rest of the English Department, Boyd Koehler, and anyone else who listened to us complain about this book. Show less