As the theater shook with the shouts and crashes of the brutal action sequences, my parents and I sat in taut silence, broken only by the occasional crunch of popcorn and slurping of an extra-large Coca-Cola. The audience was entranced, eyes glued to the screen, even when the protagonist broke his leg ...
Sun streams in through the dirty windshield of my green Subaru. I prop up my knee as I drive, and if my mother saw me, she’d be upset. But you are the one in the passenger seat next to me, twiddling with my phone to pick a song on our nine-minute drive to Michael’s.
I used to think rain wasn't real. Growing up in Los Angeles, famous for its year-long summer, a rainy day was a special occasion. Rain sparked a butterfly effect with far-ranging consequences—from causing distressed drivers to lose all coordination to inspiring elated jubilation from all the young ...
I make a precise fold in half. I repeat with the same scrutiny, the same exactness, the same force, again and again. With a pair of safety scissors whose unused blades glimmer in my intent eyes, I calculate a snippet of the corner: Four thin, white triangles swirl down into my lap. Another cut at the ...
Autumn
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My feet swing under the chipped wooden table. I soak in the smell of sizzling tomato sauce. My grandmother’s hands—soft from Pond’s hand lotion but aged from years of hot oil splashes—are a blur. I watch her float from oven to stove, guiding raw ingredients into a meal. Unwashed vegetables, ...
Dearest Mathematics,
Sitting in the art-deco-meets-botanica Domain Café (understood to be the Andrews of downtown Manhattan, given the prevalence of Asian-inspired food options), I feel exhausted. A frontal lobe headache is developing, and my eyes just can’t seem to adjust to the light. This is partly because I got up ...
There are not many things in this world that I, with time, cannot overcome. If it’s a homework assignment, I can escape the all-consuming mindset that one assignment will affect the trajectory of my career. If it’s a disagreement among friends, I can find ways to view multiple perspectives, finding ...
If there’s one thing to know about me, it’s that there are actually eleven (and counting): Paul Ryan, Frederick, Stacey-Maurice, Jerry, Bridgette, Gordo, Deena, Milo-Jordan, Billy Joel (a.k.a. Ol’ Bluegrass), Dickens, and Bixby. These little guys are my whole world, and they fit in the palms of ...
The table is set. A pristine tablecloth is laid—only the faintest of creases as evidence of usual irrelevance, when it sits forgotten and folded in a tiny cabinet high up in the kitchen. Further decorating the table is a feast. A true cornucopia. Filled with meats, carbs, and vegetables. It’s a ...
My mother’s childhood was full of plants made into toys. The last time I was in Moscow—11 years ago now, the memories are growing rusty—she shared them with me, introducing me to the many plants that could become playthings, even in a big city. There were the “touch-me-not” plants, “nedotroga,” ...
In one of my earliest memories I’m sitting on the lid of the toilet, wearing pajamas, a trash can between my feet. My mother is holding scissors as if she has just discovered what they are. She is a woman of many talents, but cutting hair is not one of them. Still, I let her try. Over and over, I ...
In the corner of the patch of land I call home there used to sit a treehouse. The funny thing about this treehouse is that it was never in a tree at all. It was a small wooden shed, perched atop nothing but solid ground.
Solutions by The State News
