hannahziomek

Drip drip . I feel the cool droplets of rainwater on the back of my neck. I’m writing and the water drips onto the back of my hands and down onto my paper. The air is pleasant in sound and smell. The birds chirping conceals the slight sound of distant traffic while the smell of rain water clouds my nose. I was told prior to this moment that I should expect the smell of oranges but my nose searches for citrus with no luck. The sun is warm on my arms but I can feel the coolness of it shifting behind clouds. I move my feet and I can hear them slosh in the puddle in front of me. The gravel crunches in front of me and I imagine a heavy-footed family walking by and exploring the views. A water droplet falls right into my ear and startles me. My hair is frizzing at the edges and I feel it tickle my shoulders. Caw caw . The chirping of the birds is broken apart by the harsh sound of something like a crow. The fluttering of wings indicates to me that the pigeons may be fleeing in terror from th

Stringing his bow, preparing his weapon, he is looking for his prey. His pupil-less eyes, are more piercing than a hawk, and his focused face is frightening. His current colorless state, does not deteriorate, the liveliness inside of him. Who will be the lucky one this time? He asks himself with excitement. The man with the hat? The girl with the dress? The options are endless. One quick hit, and just like that, they will have eternal happiness. However, the intentions behind those piercing eyes, might be more mangled than a lion’s mane. To him, love is a game, a way to blow off some steam. But for them, love is their lives. His quiver is hung on the tree stump beside him, a quiver full of people’s livelihoods. One arrow, One good shot, Why should that determine their emotional endeavors? Perhaps the cold marble, which constructed his body, also constructed his heart. Such cruelty seems more likely, from

Emily, Lauren, and I were determined to get our first solo excursion done. It had already been a few days since we’d arrived in Rome and the list of writing we had to do was looming over us. We set out to Trastevere, our destination being the Santa Maria in Trastevere, which we picked because of its close proximity to Tonnarello. The thought of pasta in my near future made my stomach growl as we neared the church. When we arrived at the entrance of the church after a long walk we were greeted by a sign telling us that we had to be in proper church dress. This sent us into a miniature panic as Lauren was wearing a short skirt and had no change of clothes. However, we had come too far to go back now, so Lauren decided to cross her fingers and enter the church. When we walked in, we split apart allowing each other to have separate experiences. I gazed in wonder all around the church. My church was small growing up and I found the size of this church overwhelming. After seeing the San

Geoffrey woke up to his phone buzzing. He turned over, groaned, and tried to hit the snooze button but it did not stop the buzzing. Angrily, he grabbed his phone, and saw that it was his professor calling him. And then Geoffrey looked at the clock. It was 8:15. His class was leaving for the Vatican at 8. “Oh shit,” Geoffrey thought intelligently. Without thinking, he grabbed his key, slid into his Birkenstocks, and sprinted out the door. His class was waiting for him and all of them had angry eyes. The Vatican had been the excursion they had all been the most excited for and Geoffrey was ruining it for them all. He had been late for class every day, so it was no surprise to them. They rushed onto the bus and as the university got further and further into the distance Geoffrey realized with sudden horror what he was wearing. All of his classmates were dressed appropriately in nice muted colors and with no bare skin showing. Geoffrey however, due to his lack of timeliness, was