Nowhere: A short story

Ashley Zhang/Staff

The writer sat at her desk producing a story for her publisher. As the letters filled the void on the screen in front of her, she began to notice the sound of the fish tank from behind her. She found its bubbling particularly incessant and chaotic for an aquatic terrarium.
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Portuguese daydreams

Work in Progress

I was sitting in Portuguese 103 one dreary winter day last semester when it occurred to me — and this thought was not in English, but in the Portuguese-Spanish cocktail pseudo-dialect known as “Portunhol” — that I was, in that moment, a visitor to the Portuguese language.
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I read it on the internet

Work in Progress

On my computer, I wrote troves of poetry and metaphorical stories, burdening Microsoft Word documents with lamentations about the depression I had been dealing with since fourth grade, and about my parents divorcing. Alone in my room, symbolic pen in my hand, I began, in earnest, to cement my career as a writer.
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I hope you never read this

Off The Beat

When I opened my inbox to a thank-you email from a reader two years ago, I paused. It was significant for two reasons. First, it told me the thoughts I had expressed were valid. Second, it convinced me I needed to write.
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