BUS FARE The glass door swung shut, cleanly, quietly. It was three-thirty and time to go home. Alexander shuffled along the sidewalk; somehow today he couldn't rush to his studies. The thoughts that turned in his head were new and fragile and quite beyond the ponderous textbooks. All the bells,... Show moreBUS FARE The glass door swung shut, cleanly, quietly. It was three-thirty and time to go home. Alexander shuffled along the sidewalk; somehow today he couldn't rush to his studies. The thoughts that turned in his head were new and fragile and quite beyond the ponderous textbooks. All the bells, sharpened pencils, frayed book covers, and eraser droppings merged behind him. Even separately, his classes were mundane, so ordinary, and everyone came and went mechanically. Knowledge I flew like cosmic rays eventually hitting them all, but ‘ never felt, not really. Yet this collective hammering had suddenly become different for Alexander. Scraps of thought buzzed his brain, "social action... individualism...joie de vivre...a thinking man...the learning experience...." Yes, it seemed that all this was moving him, he looked at things differently, realistically. But the realism weighed down so heavily. "It's a lousy world, so much crime, politicking, dishonesty, welfare and I hate it. No one else quite sees how I detest it. No one knows, realizes, that they fret their lives away over trivia and taxes." He smiled at his clever phrase. The forms hurrying past him-—at kinder times they were his friends. But they were too preoccupied with coke and classes and, they didn't know. So it was he alone, and he was proud and fierce. He clutched at the knot of contempt that filled him. Now a flickering thought intervened: what of his teachers? Had they not guided him here? No, they were of another place; they had no right to criticize or even praise, they were immaterial to his core. And so he nursed his precious find, jealously, defensively, contemptuously. His feet plowed through a shifting pile of leaves, so many in a pile. They flew before him, the breeze caught some and whirled them higher and further. Cars passed. When he was a kid he used to know all the makes; would sit on a rock by the boulevard and call them off, even look for a different license plate. Sometimes a truck driver would wave back. But there weren't enough different licenses-just dusty Michigans rushing by in an endless stream. Now the cars were nosing each other off the side street onto Granada tve., 5 Show less
Foolish little man who deigns to consider his life so long that he dares slip un- knowingly through an experience. Be it the apex of exaltation or the "golden meanfl‘ of daily service, he can afford the sublimation of his existence. Is not the air already unbearably heavy with the vapour of others... Show moreFoolish little man who deigns to consider his life so long that he dares slip un- knowingly through an experience. Be it the apex of exaltation or the "golden meanfl‘ of daily service, he can afford the sublimation of his existence. Is not the air already unbearably heavy with the vapour of others? —J:Lm Nye Show less
in his room work; he thought awhile and then went to the kitchen and put the bottle under the vege- tables in the refrigerator. She never fixed dinner, so he figured she wasn't likely to look there. He sat at the kitchen table and stared out the window at the bird feeder. Tha cardinals alnays... Show morein his room work; he thought awhile and then went to the kitchen and put the bottle under the vege- tables in the refrigerator. She never fixed dinner, so he figured she wasn't likely to look there. He sat at the kitchen table and stared out the window at the bird feeder. Tha cardinals alnays came this time of day for the sun-flower seeds. John loved to watch the brilliant male flit around the feeder, chirping heppily to himself and his green mate. John saw a cat sneaking up on the bird and tapped on the window to warn him alay. lith the bird gone, he had nothing else to do but start supper. His mother would be hungry when she woke up. He fixed a can of soup and fried a couple of hamburgers. She still wasn't awake, so he ate by himself, again dreaming about his farm - in summer, when the first hay was being cut and the odor of the sliced grass stems filled the entire countryside and the bales lay in long, neat rows in the lawn-like fields. After eating, he read Thoreau until ten o'clock, when he wnet to bed, leaving her sitting in her chair. She'd wake up soon enough. -4William Scurrah 38 Show less
"Now there's a woman," Miss Joe suggested to herself, “who needs happiness as the main cosmetic. Not that thirty-year-old red rouge which is supposedly placed just so to attain the effect of a high cheekbone. High cheekbones may be striking but they have to be surrounded by something besides red... Show more"Now there's a woman," Miss Joe suggested to herself, “who needs happiness as the main cosmetic. Not that thirty-year-old red rouge which is supposedly placed just so to attain the effect of a high cheekbone. High cheekbones may be striking but they have to be surrounded by something besides red rouge."‘ She always thought this of Mrs. lattson-that her overall gloss was too sallow to be beautiful. Miss Joe inherited naturally high cheekbones from her mother long ago. Elor was waiting for the elevator, too. “I won- der what she's thinking about now?"Miss Joe herself wondered. nShe's so emotional-—feels too much. If someone is sad, she's more so—-like the time that girl and her brother were in that accident-and the brother was killed. I'd swear that Elor was that boy's mother—-the way she was affected. It bumped her heart hard enough to spill tears; and then a piercing silence sustained her for the next week or two. Oh, I remember how I tried to say preper things to her, but I guess you can never under- stand the grief of another. And she was so quiet-- but the treatment of time nursed her back to the kind lady who, I know, will be touched by foils again soon. Oh, if only she didn't feel so much.W The elevator arrived-panting-and collected Miss Joe and seven other pe0ple. The main floor button was generously pushed by a little man-gray and inwardly charming-”. . . who must work during the day," Miss Joe mused to herself, "not because he hsa to, but because he grew up under the sound principle that only God is to be an onplooker. I bet everyone else in this elevator was brought up that way, too. If they really wanted to work instead of having to, they'd enjoy their jobs ins stead of tolerating them." Mrs. Kelly got off on third floor to wait for her hUSbme Main floor greeted the elevator with a shadowy warmth which Miss Joe completely ignored. Soon she was to the big MCKINLEY BUIIDING doors. When she was outside, she noticed that the weather had changed. "I hOpe it rains now,"liss Joe inhaled l9 Show less
of those longhair things. Why don't they play some- thing a body can recognize. I bet there aren't half a dogen people in this whole audience who understand that junk. "Say, Jamie's next . . . let‘s see . . . that's she playing . . . something by Beethoven . . . that's it. Take your time, don't... Show moreof those longhair things. Why don't they play some- thing a body can recognize. I bet there aren't half a dogen people in this whole audience who understand that junk. "Say, Jamie's next . . . let‘s see . . . that's she playing . . . something by Beethoven . . . that's it. Take your time, don't rush . . notbad. . . notbad atall . . . prettygood a c 0 Listen to rhythm, o o technique . . . what style . . . Beethoven himself couldn't have done better . . . beautiful . . . just beautiful . . . . «Linda Ramadan J ULY 17 I sit on the bank with my feet in the water. The sky—gray blue and salmon . . . The warm water shimmering pink and purple in the twilight . . . The moon, half full, rising . . . A lone sail boat, moving just a little in the breeze . . o A boy on his bike pedals by me, smiling. But you do not come. The glow has faded now. It's too dark to write. The water is warm . . . OCTOBER 17 I sit on the edge of the tub with my feet in the water. The ceiling—off white against neatly tile walls . . The warm water splashing clear and liquid from the faucet e c o The tub, half full and rising. o . A lone soap bubble, floating for a moment in the tub A girl in her robe and slippers pads by me smiling. And you are gone from W life. The hurt has healed. It's too bright to cry. The water is warm. Sharon Dunshee bl Show less
25 He brought her into town on his companion—-a sparkling white stallion with perfectly shaped flanks and withers. Mary told him it was an ass- but then what did she know about white stallions? Thus ending that paragraph- Joseph found Mary a mansion with carved pillars in the front and soft... Show more25 He brought her into town on his companion—-a sparkling white stallion with perfectly shaped flanks and withers. Mary told him it was an ass- but then what did she know about white stallions? Thus ending that paragraph- Joseph found Mary a mansion with carved pillars in the front and soft downey beds with crisp white sheets. It was a stable. Mary had a baby a boy white foreign features from his father's side of the family. They had a post-baby shower but only three people came. The rest would have come-had the invitations been personal but the approach with the star seemed unusual. Besides, how could people r.s.v.p? To end it: That night mankind gathered around the fire and sang silent night Joy to the world and little town of Bethlehem the national anthem. -Linda Ramsdsn Show less
breakfast. But that didn't matter because he didn't like to eat alone in the empty kitchen. He'd eat a good lunch with his friends at school, the four of them seated together at a table sharing food and Jokes and talking about teachers they hated and girls they liked. He put on his gray cords and... Show morebreakfast. But that didn't matter because he didn't like to eat alone in the empty kitchen. He'd eat a good lunch with his friends at school, the four of them seated together at a table sharing food and Jokes and talking about teachers they hated and girls they liked. He put on his gray cords and a blue shirt, checked on his mother (she was still on her bed, unconscious) and then ran out the back door into the cold, crisp winter air. This was his favorite kind of early morning - the sun reddening the east behind the bare branches of the elms that lined the avenues and the snow all around reflecting the light and absorbing the sound of the few cars and buses on the main street; it was the kind of quiet early winter morning that made him feel totally alone Although it was a mile to the high-school, he never took a.bus but always walked so that he couLd be alone a long time and dream about his farm: how it would look on a winter's morning like this one, the sun rising unobscured by trees as he and his dog and his horse would set out on their early morning ride, the dog barking and running back and forth and the horse snorting in the vigor of the sharp cold air, and he would be happy. When he got back home that afternoon, the T;V. was on and his mother was sitting in a chair facing it; she had fallen asleep while eating a banana.and part of it wasstill in her half-open mouth. He sat down on the sofa and looked at “her with mixed ' fbelings of pity and disgust. Her unkempt appear- ance was paralleled in the mess surrounding her: papers and magazines strewn on the floor, banana peel on her lap, hair-rollers in another chair, a pop-bottle halfdway under the television. John picked things up a little and turned off the T.V., and then looked around for her pills. They were in her shirt pocket, in a green bottle; these pills were pink - the ones he had taken from her the night before had been white. John looked around for a place to hide the pills: the vase wouldn't be good, she always looked there first, nor would anyplace 37 Show less
NEED WE BE GRAY? Breaking through the blazing skies are heard the cries of little people; of little people who take a life as though to and their strife. “hat barren brain could find a colored skin to be a sin! lhat plague is this- for brother to kill brother? Inst blacks be baseball stars so... Show moreNEED WE BE GRAY? Breaking through the blazing skies are heard the cries of little people; of little people who take a life as though to and their strife. “hat barren brain could find a colored skin to be a sin! lhat plague is this- for brother to kill brother? Inst blacks be baseball stars so whites will take down color bars? that sickened reason saves its havoc for a warmer season? What are such little people? lust we blend two skins to form a coalition of our sins? Need we be gray? -David Beenken 15 Show less
kitchen and entered her living room. She decided that she would write some letters during the evening. She wrote the first one to her niece- the niece she talked about so often to her associates-not the other niece. "The pretty one,"’Miss Joe would help her listeners to recall. "The one who is in... Show morekitchen and entered her living room. She decided that she would write some letters during the evening. She wrote the first one to her niece- the niece she talked about so often to her associates-not the other niece. "The pretty one,"’Miss Joe would help her listeners to recall. "The one who is in college to be a nurse. She's having a little difficulty in adjusting to Ian entirely new environment and the new responsibilities of being that age- but shels- doing very well."? Miss Joe didn't have much to write her-only that it must be a bit hard adjusting to a.new life in a new school and that it was raining in the city but it w0uld probably quit by morning- oh, she received a letter from Uncle Bill and his wife. And the other letter was to her brother, whom she admired now that they were older :Ind in separate cities. B y the time she finished her letters, it was 10. She didn't feel like putting her unused stationery back in the desk drawer so she just left it scattered on the hunch-backed sofa. She went to the kitchen cupboard which contained-—besides dishes-misc- ellaneous change, bottles of aspirin and vitamins, and half aLpackage of Tums—-old enough that their potency was debatable. She took two aspirin-not because they were necessary, as she didn't have a headache or any other tension, but they helped her to fall asleep; and she retired for the evening. She woke to a good morning and ready sort of feeling. Sunshine spread throughtthe tired vene- tian blinds andlauttered her floor. If she hurried a-little this morning, she could stOp at the post office with >her envelopes. By 7zh5 she was out to the washed curbs that had looked so slippery and shiny last night. Now the sidewalks were dry, c1ean-especially the sandy cracks along the curbs. She was glad it had rained. It had made everything so different. By the time she stapppd at the post office and at the bakery to buy a fresh roll-today was Wednesdayh- it was time for another day behind the light-weight wooden door which had the frosted glass which had black paint spelling out RIEN & SONS- ATTORNIES—AT-IKW. -Linda.Ramsden 21 Show less
DESCRIPTION: II As he climbed up the sandy grated steps of the school bux, Chris breathed a soft greeting to the driver. It was always a quiet hello because the sixth—grade generation haughtily perched in the back seats of the bus Inuld razz and peck at anwh one who wasn't as toughly independent... Show moreDESCRIPTION: II As he climbed up the sandy grated steps of the school bux, Chris breathed a soft greeting to the driver. It was always a quiet hello because the sixth—grade generation haughtily perched in the back seats of the bus Inuld razz and peck at anwh one who wasn't as toughly independent as they were. Chris didn't want that. He liked the bus driver because he always "watch-your-step" when kids got on; he'd holler at the guys in the back to "Keep it down." He had a leathery face withifleep lines around the mouth-not flabby, soft lines like old Mr. Jackson's, Chris thought, but hard creases as though he let it rain and hail and snow a lot right on his face. As the door closed and the bus started up, the motion tripped Chris's balance and he hurriedly moved past the first seat or two. Catching up with himself, he settled in the next seat which was emp— ty, except for a wadded-up piece of waxppaper in the corner. As the bus made its habitual stops, the seats seemed to branch out in busy children, all talking of silly things that didn't scratch the mind as the school room did. That's what Chris liked-— to be able to think about things without having to think about things. But by now they were at School -the world of fractions, "yes Hams" and neat penmanship. Chris looked forward to the bus ride home. -—Linda Ramsden 32 Show less
GOOD OLD JOSH Of old Josh, All said was good; What a kind old man he was. But as he lay In death's cold bed He knew his secret thoughts. He'd attended Church each sunday morn—- Now that was good for sure . . . But also, hell, He'd hit those bars And taken on the whores. He'd cheated, Too, at... Show moreGOOD OLD JOSH Of old Josh, All said was good; What a kind old man he was. But as he lay In death's cold bed He knew his secret thoughts. He'd attended Church each sunday morn—- Now that was good for sure . . . But also, hell, He'd hit those bars And taken on the whores. He'd cheated, Too, at cards allot, With aces up his sleeve . . . He'd broken Laws and ladies' hearts, And did stuff you wouldn't believe. But Time- She'd faded out on Josh; Now memories were runnin' back. Yet he wasn‘t Half done with his memory run When he died from his heart attack. -—Dayid Beenken Show less
Tom took a tentative step forward, then another, praying his lungs wouldn't fail him. The girl turned away for an instant and Tom broke for the exit. Tom was past the girl before she turned and he burst through the door and into the night. "I've made it, but I must keep running. There may be more... Show moreTom took a tentative step forward, then another, praying his lungs wouldn't fail him. The girl turned away for an instant and Tom broke for the exit. Tom was past the girl before she turned and he burst through the door and into the night. "I've made it, but I must keep running. There may be more of them in the area. I have to keep running." The startled druggist turned to the girl and said, "Judy, who in the world was that?" "I don't know his name Mr. Benson, but he comes in quite often; usually he Just stands by the magazine rack and reads spy and detective stories." -John Gerken 'TIS SPRING 'Tis spring: the earth renews itself again. But I, I still contain old winter's death. I cannot seem to catch a deep fresh breath To make me part of life of other men. A singleness of purpose fills my days;; I must discover who I am and what. Until that's known the outer world's forgot And mine are not the same as other's ways. Where does one go to seek out what is true? I must go inward and cannot look out: And yet I see the world and want to shout Hello, world! take me, make me part of you! But first must understanding me begin. -Sonya Christensen Show less
JUNE SNOW Gray miners' shacks bask dizzily‘below the sun-greened summit trees in blurring heat, while on the mountain ridge, three thousand feet above, last summer's grass lies drenched with snow in drifts so deep the road is not a road, not even for our jeep, although it's June; the peak might... Show moreJUNE SNOW Gray miners' shacks bask dizzily‘below the sun-greened summit trees in blurring heat, while on the mountain ridge, three thousand feet above, last summer's grass lies drenched with snow in drifts so deep the road is not a road, not even for our jeep, although it's June; the peak might just as well be on the moon today; Nature's hard winter will has slowed the thawing here, reserving for it's own one last, most wanted part, and we must wait our turn to use the road. Now, as the late red sun purples the mountaintop's unknown, our playful snowball fight has melted less than necessary, and we must descend again through the mute town. But yet, the trend is toward melting, and some day will send us to the mountain when it will say yes. Show less
IDURNING IN TIME Narrow wooden stairs curling through Loafing plaster walls Stopped at a closed door. The stolid door gravely opened and closed with A.whisper of movement past bare boards. Red strobes and tapestry-strewn Iindowe Isre the candles and purple carpets of the vesper service. £.metal... Show moreIDURNING IN TIME Narrow wooden stairs curling through Loafing plaster walls Stopped at a closed door. The stolid door gravely opened and closed with A.whisper of movement past bare boards. Red strobes and tapestry-strewn Iindowe Isre the candles and purple carpets of the vesper service. £.metal Buddha squatting on silk ‘23 a golden cross nailed against a pale wall. Stacks of burning incense were fragrant displays of flowers. The Velvet Underground emerging from the Clothed cubes of stereo's speaker las organic hymns. The long-haired creatures dispersed languidly About the blaring room lere Christians hypnotically staring Through the wan hours of morning. -—Cheryl Lesch Show less
choked us with! He felt better, once again compla- cent in his aesthetic self-righteousness. The sun was setting, the syrupy sherbet glow of neon lights appeared. Ugly. But the sun was not to be denied. Its dying rays glinted on myriad window- panes turning them into so many sheets of burnished... Show morechoked us with! He felt better, once again compla- cent in his aesthetic self-righteousness. The sun was setting, the syrupy sherbet glow of neon lights appeared. Ugly. But the sun was not to be denied. Its dying rays glinted on myriad window- panes turning them into so many sheets of burnished gold. Dusk now, and the bus slowed again, obedient to a soliciting buzz as Alexander yanked the cord. He stopped quickly through the inviting slot and tasted cool air for moment. Then, standing in the warm wake of the grunting bus, he was again alone. The wheezing vehicle had left a strange, silent void. The newborn night was dark and damp, but itglistened invitingly. Shrugging, Alexander started home. The sidewalk teased him. "Step on a crack and you break your mother's back; Step on a line and you break your mother's spine." And like the boy of betbre, he knew his choice. To tarry upon the cracks was lethal. It yielded nothing but sadness and resignation, for the con- fining ruts could only bring stagnation to the newly awakened sprite - his mind. —-Nancy Follingstad Show less
Floating far in smoke-ring space I watched a sun-lit world twirl 'cross your face, dance on nimble feet 'cross feelings ling untraced and long unfollowed secretly unseen I watched in wonder the images of lovely life go flashing o'er your eyes and then go under all the sights and sounds around us... Show moreFloating far in smoke-ring space I watched a sun-lit world twirl 'cross your face, dance on nimble feet 'cross feelings ling untraced and long unfollowed secretly unseen I watched in wonder the images of lovely life go flashing o'er your eyes and then go under all the sights and sounds around us in a symphony of blues and splashing sadness watched while misty wet and windy waves went rolling over dreams-—cast them off sent them drifting all alone doomed to die when morning melts xv memories bright moonbeams too hot to hold too fast to follow some sifting sand running free through fingers for a while mdthane e e an empty hand is all that's left . . e anemptyhandoo. and maybe there's tomorrow! -Gary Bergstrom 35 Show less
SPRIM The emerald velvet is afire with burning desire, Shooting its lightning green flames, Blazing soul enforcing the aims To melt those overlying, suffocating snows. Savager, emotion is violently hurled to this world, lhere the savory lust for life Grows afirt from tasteless strife, And dawn... Show moreSPRIM The emerald velvet is afire with burning desire, Shooting its lightning green flames, Blazing soul enforcing the aims To melt those overlying, suffocating snows. Savager, emotion is violently hurled to this world, lhere the savory lust for life Grows afirt from tasteless strife, And dawn comes—more precious than ever, when, With sincere endeavor, It thaws the coldness to kiss the grass. Jayne Hanson 39 Show less
MISS JOE She was a working girl-—just like everyone else. And to her—-just like everyone else-h:30 quitting time always procrastinated at me punch-in clock. Finally after hearing the quitting—time bell, she donned her coattoleave-—just like everyone else. But that is where the similarity with her... Show moreMISS JOE She was a working girl-—just like everyone else. And to her—-just like everyone else-h:30 quitting time always procrastinated at me punch-in clock. Finally after hearing the quitting—time bell, she donned her coattoleave-—just like everyone else. But that is where the similarity with her office mates ended. All the office workers mechanically pushed open the lightdweight wooden door which had the frosted glass which had black paint spelling out RIEN & SONS —-ATTORNIES—AT—L£W5 and then these people walked down the hall to stand statue-liek and wait for the elevator to yawn open its doors to take them to main floor——except Mrs. Kelly, who always stopped on third floor to wait for her husband; and then these peeple walked soberly down the main hall to push open the heavy door with the clear glass that had black paint spelling out MCKINIEY BUILDING. Down the sidewalk these neutral—faced people walked-not noticing anything in particular. And to their homes they went——to spend a habitual evening of newspaper and TV-except Mr. Surrel, who listened to radio—-and Mrs. Windslow, who bathed her corns. And in the morning, they woke with the rings of their alarm clocks-which never had to be tampered with because they always rang at seven. And so back they journied to RIEN & SONS-—ATTORNIES~AT-LKI in the MCKINLEY BUILDING where they waited for h:30 quitting time which always procrastinated at the punch-in clock. Miss Joe was different, and she knew it. She was glad. "Maybe it's good that I clashwith my office associates,"‘she would say to herself as she pushed open the frosted glass which had black paint spelling out BEIN & SONS-ATTORNIES—AT-IAW. "That way I recognize the wrong life of the rusted cramped business. I never let work or the atmos- phere of RIEN & SONS go arvwhere with me . . .‘ and I never will." As she walked down the hall she watched the statue-like people waiting for the bored doors of the elevator. She absorbed Mrs. Mattson first. 18 —+- Show less