By Callie Samton ('18) After the rain, the island was mine. The ground was damp, the air smelled like salt water, and the bay was still dark and brooding. The pavement was dotted with puddles, like oceans to our eyes. The sunlight came through the mist in ethereal tendrils, bathing the
Category: Prose
Hike
By Maayan Rosenfield ('18) A dusty flurry topped the ice-covered mountains as my cousins and I embarked on our dangerous expedition. Our clothes already clung to our sweat-soaked bodies, despite freezing temperatures. We stood just ten steps past the base of the mountain we were
The Speakeasy Magazine 