She Comes to Me in Sunsets
By Marissa Solomon
My Oma lives in New Hampshire sunsets.
By Marissa Solomon
My Oma lives in New Hampshire sunsets.
By Julia Catalano
In three years, when we’re at Syracuse and forced to say goodbye again, the concerts will be canceled. But we don’t know this yet.
By Noah Fritsch Sometimes you can learn a lot about who people are by looking at their shoes. The excitement they feel, or the sorrow they felt. Noah Fritsch likes design and architecture. A camera is a fun way to look at those things.
By Giovanna Veiga
“I miss you too,” I say to an empty room. But if I reach, out I can feel the scruff lining his jaw, the dip in his chin, the crease at the tip of his nose, all my favorite parts of him.
Artwork by Michela Britis-Tannenbaum
By Kate Brennan
In six hours, this same sun will wash over balconies and iron tables for coffee cups, ashtrays, and croissant flakes to bake in its warmth.
By Shiharu Yamashita
We’ve had this conversation before—about Halsey Middle School, about how I’m not Korean—but really I wonder if she has any relatives and is lonely.
By Nina Piazza
By Nina Piazza
Artwork by Junshan Fang