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family ties

family ties [feature]

As my mom reads off every name, my sister and I try our hardest to commit them to memory. We are six and eight years old, excitedly staring at the family tree in front of us. It is astonishing and extensive, with some very familiar names and others that I have only heard of as characters from my parents’ ...




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these platonic loves [feature]

This summer, I started journaling more consistently, generating list after list to wrangle my otherwise incoherent jumble of thoughts—favorite songs of the month, all-nighters ranked from most-bad to sorta-fun, top five core memories, most transformative friendships. I lingered on the last one longer ...


deserted

deserted [feature]

On my ninth birthday, my Grandpa Bill gifted me a copy of The Little Prince. I remember the cover with the blonde boy who stood amongst the stars, but I didn’t read the story until recently, when Bill sent a letter that reminded me of the image.

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breaking bread [feature]

Upon returning home from a family reunion trip two summers ago, I was welcomed back by the presence of two very conspicuous solid lines on the white plastic Covid-19 test in my hand. I had not (to my knowledge) had Covid since the pandemic had started. It was bound to happen at some point, I thought ...


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Post- Magazine

send my love [feature]

Nearly all seventeen species of penguins are intensely colonial, gathering in “great teeming masses” to court one another. To win a female’s affection, males swing their heads side to side or raise their flippers or throw their beaks to the sky to carol their best trills and squawks. Some gentoo ...


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remembrance [feature]

One year, my mother committed herself to scrapbooking my oma’s life. For weeks, she scoured the depths of old boxes and dusty albums, until she’d found records of every pivotal moment of my oma that she could. Sepia, water-stained photos adorned the pages, accompanied by careful captions, dates. ...


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Post- Magazine

the bittersweet taste of nostalgia [feature]

As if by reflex, I grab the keys off the kitchen counter and toss them to my sister. A frequent inhabitant of the passenger seat, I am more than happy to relinquish control of the car. We head into the sticky garage, and the familiar humidity of a Rhode Island summer greets us. Our routine begins.


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Post- Magazine

the peripheral view [feature]

I know romanticizing sleep deprivation is a little foolish. I am not speaking of just any sleep deprivation; I am speaking of the kind you knowingly bring upon yourself when you are young and carefree, the kind that puts you in a dream-like state, replaying snippets from the previous night. If you have ...


ozarker
Post- Magazine

an ozarker in the ivy league [feature]

I left my home in Springfield, Missouri when I was 18 to attend college in Providence, Rhode Island. As the valedictorian of my high school class and recent co-star of a public tragedy in my hometown, my final months in the comforting hollows of the Ozarks were filled with warnings, worry, and a taste ...



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