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Smart Prey
by Fatu Pombor The wind pierces her skin as her feet slip outwards onto the wet cool leaves. She is running, running somewhere, running nowhere, her mind doesn’t seem to know as she gets deeper into the woods. It’s dark, though the midnight sky is filled with swirls of lilac, sapphire, and amber. Only lit by the glow of the moon that drips its light onto the cold hard surface, leaving soft flickers of kisses against her warm alabaster skin. The air is sticky and filled with steam. It’s only a matter of time before he comes for me, she thinks to herself. She decides to run faster. The cold…
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Broken
He was stuck in an everlasting wasteland, one of the few able to see the real evils of the world, the evils that destroy and ravage even the most innocent and kind-hearted attacking their fickle minds like a vulture on the hunt, ripping through skin to pick apart everything they keep hidden inside feasting on the weak until they are nothing but an empty shell of themselves, left dormant, abandoned, hoping for the light. But the light they want is a light easily attainable through a cold barrel and that bright white flashing against a blackened sky, making them finally feel at peace with the world around them laying as…
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SLAB Day of Giving
Next academic year SLAB will be celebrating its 15th anniversary! The student staff has accomplished so much over the years . . . . As part of the 24-hour SRU Day of Giving on Tuesday, March 26, the department has created an “early bird” funding campaign to help SLAB get a little “extra” to help with the celebration planning for next year. To donate please visit: https://srugivingday.everydayhero.com/us/slab
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Inhabiting Circles
Conservative, she never swallowed love—just chloroform carvings. In the highway, cunts caused her security. When she discovered the truth during cunnlingus, such revelations formed shy ambidextrous men coming clean out of their heterosexual habits to copped up doublegangers; their covered bonds sundered into clipped wombs. She asked for compassion from a constipated Jesus Christ, finding clits in cupboards. She spit, trying to pour cubism into closets, or into openings covered with love. She never spoke, only called, just contemplating about canned goods staining petty lesbian hearts as they comically waited for shots in the light. -by Tabitha Punger DISCLAIMER: Please be aware that RockScissorsPaper posts only the true, original work…
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Reynolds Wrestling vs. The Budget: A Look into Sports Favoritism
Reynolds Wrestling vs. The Budget: A Look into Sports Favoritism By Megan Krumpak Growing up, I never thought too much of money. It was always just there: mom had it, businesses had it, and schools had it. The first time I heard anything about budget cuts and wages was when I was in elementary school, when a large portion of my district’s teachers went on strike. I live in a small, rural development called Reynolds Heights, which houses the Reynolds School District. It was built on top of an old army base named, you guessed it, Camp Reynolds. It housed millions of soldiers and trained them before they went…
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Fading Light (Final Installment)
By the time we arrive at Indrumara’s home, the sun sits at the base of the horizon. It’s fading light cools the air from its warm golden hues to relaxing blues. Indrumara pours a glass of clean water into a crystal cup that was handcrafted by the elves long ago. We’re lucky these ones survived when my kind began stealing from them. She hands me the cup and pours herself one as well. “You have been such a bright light in our clan, Larissa. You are doing marvelous in your training, and I even heard your slowly getting better with your Sindarian.” “Ha na- ú- sui man sui nin Quenyan.”…
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Fading Light (second installment)
Once he brought me home the night my family died, he was the only person I had to take care of me. I didn’t have parents anymore. Only him. 14 Years Later The pounding of my footsteps and the swishing of the other runners bounce throughout the forest around me. I pump every ounce of energy I have into my legs. Someone on my left catches up and aims an arrow right at me. My instincts kick in and adrenaline pulse through my veins, guiding me to dart up a tree, pull out my own bow and arrow, and fire at my opponent while flipping backwards, all before I…
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Fading Light
From what I was told, it happened on a chill, autumn evening; right when the tip of the sun vanished below the horizon. I can still remember the picturesque sunset: the remaining rays painted the edge of the sky a gentle pink, until the darkness of night slyly consumed the pretty color into a menacing purple-gray. I tried shriveling in my toddler seat, but no matter how low I got, the darkening atmosphere was still watching me. “Daddy, it’s getting dark out. Can I have your phone to make it brighter?” My sister spoke out in the growing darkness. “For the fourth time, no. We’re almost home,” my dad spoke harshly. I…
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Found Poetry: Losing it
Losing it, meant finding something else, a deep black emptiness inside.
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The Brain on Literature
This piece in particular was done in a time of feeling heavily influenced by the things that were going on around me that were pulling me away from the things that made me happiest. It specifically illustrates how literature can take you on a journey from your own life and worldly troubles and into any world you can possibly think of in order to escape, no matter for how brief of a time, and allow your mind to explore and breathe.
