EVERY HOOFPRINT

Photo Credit: Djemima Duvernat When someone asks me about my favorite book, the answer comes with no hesitation: “The Catcher in the Rye." The truth goes beyond how amazing the book itself is; my love for the book is attached to the day I received it. It was my very first English class in the United States; I was drowning, not in the Atlantic Ocean I had crossed to get here, but in the sea of unfamiliar language. I felt so lonely even though I was surrounded by other students

Photo credit - Patch Bowen, Horseshoe SATIRE Our very loving president, Donald Trump, had his “Avengers” moment when he picked the name for the military operation against Iran. Nobody saw it coming, of course, except anyone who has been paying even the slightest attention to his entire political career. The man has never exactly been subtle about his personality nor his intentions. I mean, let’s talk about it, “ Epic Fury ,” that is the kind of name a 15-year-old would type i

Photo Credit: Djemima Duvernat Photo Credit: Djemima Duvernat Photo Credit: Djemima Duvernat I have always loved riding the train. There is something about watching the world move through the windows while I sit still that makes me think about everything and nothing all at once. As houses blur past, I get a glimpse of people’s lives, and I get to decide whether it is a happy one or if I would want to be them in that specific moment.  A woman hangs laundry in her backyard. Chi

Photo Credit to Ana Karolina Pereira on Pexels The front seat of his car was dangerous and yet she found herself there more times than she could count. It was always reserved for her, not asked or offered, just expected. Someone trusted to drive her from school events and on grocery runs. That someone made sure the front seat was empty and available for her. Made sure she sat up front, the back seat was too cramped, too uncomfortable. Someone who needed her there within reach

SATIRE No one ever in the wildest dreams ever expects to be viewed as THAT person. The person who ends up experiencing such a tragic event that they are forever known by it. They are marked by the thing that happened to them, the thing that is so unspeakable, so… traumatic.  This is my story.  My daily walks are part of my special routine and it is something that I pride myself in; they're my way to decompress after a hard day crossing the road. My path is always the same fro

I let my anger get the best of me. Just like him. There are no words to describe being compared to someone your memories villainize. Though I knew my father beyond the anger, having one of your first memories of someone be something so traumatic doesn’t set a great tone, especially when you see them once a yNineteen. The last year of one's teens. The last chance to be a kid before the impending doom of your twenties begins to sink in. The age I am now and the age my father wa

Jade Dream Edwards-Figueroa. It's 24 letters, 25 characters that define who I am. Without a name I am simply just someone. I could be...

Silver dollar pancakes have nothing on you. Neither does this greasy spoon, In all its glory with that big gumball machine With its swirl

= It had been nearly four years since that evening in the kitchen. Time had not dulled the memory—it remained vivid, like heat trapped...

Contributing Writer Maria Jensen   Round and round and round I go,.  Where is a spot? Nobody knows!  From the library, to Dunham, to Cel...

“Check this out, Senni! I learned this during my time on the frontier.” My father wildly spun his obsidian blade, chopping into the...

Q&A With Joshua Lozano