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The Lover's Squabble
by Brian D. Stone
'Kill me.'
'What?'
'Kill me.'
'Nol'
'You said that you'd do
anything for me.... Kill me.'
No, I can't ever do that. I love
you: don't you see: I really care
about you,' she said as she felt
the cold steel In her hand,and
loathed its form and feel.
*You're a liar. Kill me. You're
killing me slowly; opening new
wounds with your words and
re-opening and salting old wounds
with your actions.... Kill me.'
'I never wanted to hurt you,'
she cheked on every word she
said 'l'm I'm sorry. Look at
me,' she said as the tears welled
deeply in her eyes and ran down
her cheek, 'I love you.' The
words came slowly to her Ups now,
one by one, 'I love you. I'll never
stop loving you. I really care
about you. I--'
'Don't lie to me; you liel You
never really cared. If you really
care, why do I always give and you
take. I get nothing! You use me;
that's why you feel guilty. Just
finish me off. Kill me.*
'Slop i 11... 5t001... Listen. ... I
love you...l've always loved you, a
deep love that will never de or
fade. Can't you sea I need you: I
care about you: 1... I love you, the
words she spoke were slowly
becoming softer: they were almost
a whisper now, "I'm sorry. I'm
clumsy... I try to show you how
much I love you, but I always end
up hurting you. I'm... I'm sorry.' ,
The tears now streamed down her
cheek, down her cheek on to her
neck, 'Hold me.'
He gave in. His anger was
abated he loved her deeply, and
had to hold her, he loved her.
Even though the hurt caused by
her was deep, he had to hold her:
he loved her. love you,' he
The Night Mr
by Michelle Carlin
The night air Is cold aid crisp
The dew on the grass glistens
from the reflection of the lights that
shine from WI above the field
An array of quarter and eight notes
In black and white stream throutet
my mind. My left hand grass the
baton while the micas three
firms of my MIN hand press
down on the metal, mimicking the
routine I have so diligently .
memorized. I constantly blow air
on my hands to keep them warm.
Suckle*. The Drum Major barks
the coma imd to make us come to
attention. My body responds, and
snaps into position. The smaller
muscles work together to help the
larger ones support this very
uncomfortable position. My eyes
are focused (Racily ahead as ►
review the menthlrg remitters in
my head The cadence begins. I
March onto the field, keeping my
chin wit* pride reflecting in my
eyes. I can feed uniform , beating
heavily urger my which
mow seems RAW than WI I first
put it on. When I reach my spot
on the fifty yard Nne, I assume the
'parade rest' position. With my
legs apart, and my instrument
cradled In my arms. I stand with
my face pointed down. The
acterialin is pumped into my blood
stream as t hear my name
announced as the evening's
soloist. The command to attention
is called once again.
whispered in her ear as he kissed
her cheek. As he felt her tears
flow from her cheek to his own:
and the cold, wet feeling of her
tears; and the warmth other
embrace soothed and healed the
wounds caused by her lies, her
ignoring him, her actions, her
words. her past. and her yelling at
him. He loved her once again. He
loved her with a love that was
fresh and MM. It was a love that
was greater than the love he had
for her before they had fought. He
promised to himself that he would
never get upset as he did at her
again. He would always love her.
She held him as if she had not
seen him for a year. She needed
him and cared for him more than
she cared for anyone. She loved
him more than anyone in her life;
her family, her friends, or any of
her past loves. Her love for him
was an undying one. She craded
his cheek in her left hand:
whispered into his ear, love you
too,' and she kissed his lips gently
as she gave him what he wanted.
She eased his body to the floor.
As the blood trickled out of the
hole in his neck to form a puddle
on the carpet, she left the room
holdng the revolver loosely in her
right hand. "I love you too, and
I'm glad I could finnaly give you
something you really wanted,' she
said as she turned away from the
roorn.to go downstairs to make
supper.
\t c\‘'
.i
-i
I think I am nervous, for I have
convinced my mind Mal I am
ready, but my knees are slightly
trembling. As I look to the stands,
I see a myriad of strange faces
that are wick to Palo my
performance. The Drum Major
gives us four beasts of her whistle,
including the tempo of the
selection that - is about to be
performed. On the third of these
blasts, I take a quick, deep breath,
filling my twigs with air, preparing
to start my routine. After the
fourth Whistle, the music begins. I
force the air out of my lungs with a
steady stream that flows into the
night sky. My ears are tuned in to
the belt of the trumpets, listening
for the proper pitch and tone.
The piece begins with an
Inaudible pianissimo that builds
into a blaring fOrtissimo within the
the Highacre
y-' )-'-`
Collegian
Rise and Fall
Goodbye to the leaves:
They're falling off the trees.
Dead, they change to brown
And they vanish with the breeze
Goodbye to a city
That is digging down below.
Warfare in the trenches;
Blood upon the snow.
Goodbye to a way of life:
So vocal, such a fool.
Helpless and disqualified,
A racecar out of fuel.
Goodbye to my father:
So talented and young.
Prone to song and suicide,
His song was never sung.
-Fritz Light
Struggle
Peaceful, here below the surface,
Though we feel the tumult
Of the pain above.
The cropping bombs have stopped
us cold
We fight to stay alive,
Just like those above.
As time goes by the beds fill up
But no one seems to leave.
We're dropping like flies. -
The pounding above has ended.
The fear below has died
.So have the injured.
-Fritz Light
frst eight beats. As the
performance progresses. my body
and mind synchronize with the
music. It is no longer cold in fact,
I can feel no weather -- as if rriy
mind has taken Mother Nature arid
locked her in her room. My solo is
approaching. I must constantly
remind myself not to cot nervous.
It Is now time. I point towards the
press box so that I'm performing
for the judges. Each move is
precise and the musical notes ring
like bells through the night, clear
and crisp. But as quickly as
began, the solo ends.
Two other selections follow.
each with the same precision as
the first. But the show finally
ends. I am now standing on the
sideline between the forty-five and
fifty yard lines; I am a dot that
belongs to the letter •13 6 that is a
part of my schcors name.
'Marlboro.* As I stand at
attertiort - Trecall the oerforrnance. "
November 1988
Persisting Heat
The day is halved: the sun, It
roasts
And all around the ground, the
sea, the sky
Are sweltering in pain from the
sun.
One man sits, another stands.
They argue, sweating underneath
the SUITByS:
Nothing more than verbal
Tug-of-war.
Perched below umbrellas, one
man argues
Tool, you'll de or cancer at that
ratel
'Provoking simple argument,
'The sun we need to beutify the
skin
While underneath our surface. it is
utilized
For vitamin production.
'The hours wane, as does the sun,
Their argument heals up, as does
the sun,
Their sweaty bodes shine,-as
does the sun,
No breeze blows off the sea,
No quenching, sudden burst of
passing thunderstorm
Meanders toward the point of
argument.
`I hate you fool! Your day is
soonr
"But no, you lose, for I will not
agree:
I love you, and refuse to let yo
go.
'Apollo, race your chariots
Across our gaseous atmosphere
and put an end
To flaming temperatures and
tempers!
There soon came night, with
peaceful rest
Beneath the autumn lumirescent
moon. -
So high up in the sky: a crescent
bright.
There, both men lay, at peace for
once,
For neither could deny the fact
that nighttime follows day,
And with consensus reached:
They slept in snarl, 'soothirci
peace,
And none can argue otherwise
That peace is unattainable until we
sleep.
-Ftll2 Light
The night is Very cold now. as I -
Feel the wind clash against the
sweat that has developed on mY
forehead. My mind and body
congratulate each other on a itt
well done. Deep down Inside of
me I know that I have done well.
When we get off the field. I am
pleased with myself. Bubbling
Inside of me Is a smile trying to
force Its way out. My body is sore
from the rigid postures and strict
movement that I had been
restricted to; but I ignore this, for I
an exhultegto the greatest
degree. Thee is a feeling inside
of me that is unexplainable. This
feeling can neither be taught nor
learned, nor injected nor obtained.
by any PhYsiCal means. This
feeling comes from an unknown
place, deep within us, and only we
have the capability of releasing it.
I call this feeling 'exceeding
yourself,' and this is what makes
life all worthwhile.