university of south carolina upstate

editor's note 2013

Dear Artists and Authors, Works of literature, whether whimsical or profound, arise from inspiration, consideration, observation and craft. At times the words flow effortlessly from the pen; occasionally the grip becomes worn and the ink nearly dries before producing works of merit. We call this creative writing. It is a highly coveted skill that makes this journal possible. Clearly, as one can see from perusing page-to-page, the end justifies the means. However, it has occurred to me in a powerful epiphany as I began reading and editing that the true art does not come to completion with publication or press release. No, the true art comes to fruition perennially via you, the reader. We call the process creative writing but the purpose is realized through a creative understanding, a creative interpretation formed from experience and phenomenology. In many ways, much like a piece of paper is a canvas for the writer, the literature itself is a canvas for the readers, on which they plant their own perception and unearth a work of art no other reader can harvest. On each page, a multiplicity of stories thrive, far more than the pages of this journal are capable of containing. Your distinct reading will find something different, an exclusive reflection of yourself both fertilized by and budding from the words in a circular and mutual appreciation. This is the very essence of creative understanding. Now turn the page and begin reap what you will, experience each story in every way you know how and sow a parcel of yourself in our journal. Thank you so much for becoming a part. Editor-in-Chief,

Acknowledgements
writersINC Staff
Editor-in-Chief Cody H. Owens Assistant Editors Joe Bodie Ashley Hankins Trina Higgins Layout Concept Hannah Smith Staff Advisor Dr. Marilyn Knight

Special Thanks
writersINC would like to thank: Dean Laura Puckett-Boler Dr. Marilyn Knight Dr. Richard Mack Mrs. Melissa Perry USC Upstate Media Board

Cody H. Owens

writersINC is a publication of the University of South Carolina Upstate. All rights are reserved by the artists and authors. Opinions expressed within this journal do not necessarily reflect those of the writersINC staff or the USC Upstate community.

University of South Carolina Upstate

Table of contents
prose 10 The Wild Hunt Anne Tedeton 22 Summer Storms Joe Bodie 32 Green Flash at Sunset Garrett Mitchell 39 Philematophobia Anne Tedeton 45 The Dog Park Joe Bodie 49 The Prey of the Vulture F. B. Wood 56 Night Jessica Pisa 66 My New Home Drayton Hammes 79 Banrock: How Australia Changed My Life 92 On a Thursday Joe Bodie 97 Voice of Reason Cody H. Owens 21 Blue Funk Amanda Darchiville 29 Flames of Her Memories Evan Marchi 30 Eighteen Is Too Old Rebekah Robinson 31 Student Drayton Hammes 38 The Untitled Poem Deanna Falls 44 Fired Shira Gaffney 55 Aquila Americana Cody H. Owens 58 Conversations Joe Bodie 60 When Fears Trina Higgins 61 Tears of the Moon Rebekah Robinson 63 Remembrance Jake Hennett 64 Untitled Ashley Hankins 65 Black Womans Song of Self Love Trina Higgins 68 I Question Derika Wilson 70 We Are Not Crazy Rebekah Robinson

Garrett Mitchell

poetry 6 Street Music Trina Higgins 7 Pleasures Nya Marsh 8 Dolled-Up Infidelity Shira Gaffney 9 Why This Love Rebecca Maycan 17 I Used to Dream About Beautiful Things Katie Poindexter 19 I Know My Daddy Loves Me Rebekah Robinson 20 The Grape Danny P. Barbare

University of South Carolina Upstate

The Preface Madelaine Hoptry

She called it her masterpiece. Her bright blue eyes peered at me from underneath the blanket as she waited for my reaction. Darling, its quite simple really, she said. It will change everything. Everything will be different. It must be. And she was right. It was different. Everything did change. But not as I had imagined it would that night she talked with her slender hands and her willowy fingers, as if lips and a smile werent enough. I had no idea what she was saying. I was too distracted by the roses blooming in her cheeks and the stars glinting in her eyes to even care. She was beautiful and I loved her. I still do. With a passion that only Romeo could grasp in his love for the delicate Juliet. Unfortunately, the spark in her eyes, which I mistook for starlight, was only the glow of the doom to come. Had I known her fate, our fate, I would have smothered her in kisses and begged her to cast this book of hers aside. To stay with me just like this forever. If only Id known. But let us not discuss a love long gone for that is not the story to be told here. A year after that night, she left me for one of a thousand other men who were dominated by her beauty, her wit, her intelligence. Darling, I just cant. I have to go. I begged. I pleaded. I knelt at her feet and kissed the ground she stood on. Really, this is no time for dramatics, dear. My heart splintered. But she refused to say more. She took her umbrella, kissed my cheek and walked out the door. I didnt see her again until two years later. As I was walking across Times Square, a horde of black suited men wearing fedoras, puffing on cigarettes, and carrying constantly flashing cameras attracted my disgust. It was then I saw her. She was wearing a long filmy, flowing, pink thing that fitted her body as if God had sewn it for her. Every man there was imagining her naked. Is it true, Mrs. Wright that youre planning to- Mrs. Wright, please! Maam, could you tell us about- I moved closer in order to hear better. And, oh, God, I wish I hadnt. As soon as I pushed my way through the crowd of cackling crows, she spotted me. Darling! How pleasant of you to be here! How are you, dear? Its been simply too long! Hello, Evelyn. Friends, this is an old acquaintance of mine, Mr. Theodore Black. I think that sleeping with you for four years makes me quite a bit more than an acquaintance, I whispered to her. Whatever you wish, dear. And with that, I was hooked again. I couldnt get enough of her. I followed her everywhere, my puppy eyes and brown suit betraying me in every crowd, in every stampede for her attention. She resumed lavishing upon me her affection, as if I was indeed a puppy. Its your manner of speech, darling, I simply adore your bluntness and how matter-of-fact you are. Heavens, if it werent for you, Theo darling, my head would be too big for my neck! And so it continued. She wrote and wrote and wrote. All fabulous novels meant to entertain young girls and old women still besotted by the antiquated concept of true love. A fairy tale. Thats all true love is. I kept buying her books, hoping to find her masterpiece, waiting to confront the genius in her I had seen so long ago. I waited for a very long time. After fifteen years of writing, the publication of ten successful novels, three disastrous marriages and three painful divorces, four miscarriages and the deaths of all of her sisters, Evelyn was no longer the beauty she once was. Her skin had wrinkled and her body looked as if it had crumbled in upon itself. Although men continued to follow her, they did so only for her reputation, her wealth, and her position in society. Her disposition was filled with random rancor, and the sunlight in her eyes seduced no one. No one but me, of course.

University of South Carolina Upstate

Why this love rebecca maycan

Why do we love the ones we love? Why this one and not another? Is there no choice? Are no better to be found? Whilst judging with impartial eyes, I would wonder Why did this one person secure my surrender? Are there not more charming? More cunning? More fair? I trow there are, I will not plea falsely; And thus I could doubt myself, doubt this attachment. And yet, from my heart, from the seat of loves judgment, I know that whats seen is the fools stumbling block; For this love did not spring from dizzy attraction Or grow with an increase of swaggering beauty. Oh no, for it crept, unassuming, along, Dared not lift its head fore the ripening came, But slowly, like unfolding bud, revealed its stunning worth. For it is not a flashy thing, no Claudio and Hero, But oh, the best and dearest kind of volunteer surrender. Indeed, I know I can afford to laugh at our shortcomings, For what is ours is of such worth we need no self-conscious striving.

amanda darchiville
Those sticky embers, This blasphemous ink, Corrodes my mind, at once so fierce. Am I forbidden of normalcy Unlike the ones I love? I attempt to care, I attempt to seek, But nothing breaches this shakable curse. I yearn to love, I yearn to care, The beautiful parts of being. Im not allowed this gift of life, Im called for harder things. I pray the day You erupt my soul, Ill spread my blessed wings.

blue funk

University of South Carolina Upstate

The Preface Madelaine Hoptry

She called it her masterpiece. Her bright blue eyes peered at me from underneath the blanket as she waited for my reaction. Darling, its quite simple really, she said. It will change everything. Everything will be different. It must be. And she was right. It was different. Everything did change. But not as I had imagined it would that night she talked with her slender hands and her willowy fingers, as if lips and a smile werent enough. I had no idea what she was saying. I was too distracted by the roses blooming in her cheeks and the stars glinting in her eyes to even care. She was beautiful and I loved her. I still do. With a passion that only Romeo could grasp in his love for the delicate Juliet. Unfortunately, the spark in her eyes, which I mistook for starlight, was only the glow of the doom to come. Had I known her fate, our fate, I would have smothered her in kisses and begged her to cast this book of hers aside. To stay with me just like this. puffing on cigarettes, and carrying constantly flashing cameras attracted my disgust. It was then I saw her. She was wearing a long filmy, flowing, pink thing that fitted her body as if God had sewn it for her. Every man there was imagining her naked. Is it true, Mrs. Wright that youre planning to- Mrs. Wright, please! Maam, could you tell us about- I moved closer in order to hear better. And, oh, God, I wish I hadnt. As soon as I pushed my way through the crowd of cackling crows, she spotted me. Darling! How pleasant of you to be here! How are you, dear? Its been simply too long! Hello, Evelyn. Friends, this is an old acquaintance of mine, Mr. Theodore Black. I think that sleeping with you for four years makes me quite a bit more than an acquaintance, I whispered to her. Whatever you wish, dear. And with that, I was hooked again. I couldnt get enough of her. I followed her everywhere, my puppy eyes and brown suit betraying me in every crowd, in every stampede for her attention. She resumed lavishing upon me her affection, as if I was indeed a puppy.

10

If only Id known. But let us not discuss a love long gone for that is not the story to be told here. A year after that night, she left me for one of a thousand other men who were dominated by her beauty, her wit, her intelligence. Darling, I just cant. I have to go. I begged. I pleaded. I knelt at her feet and kissed the ground she stood on. Really, this is no time for dramatics, dear. My heart splintered. But she refused to say more. She took her umbrella, kissed my cheek and walked out the door. I didnt see her again until two years later. As I was walking across Times Square, a horde of black suited men wearing fedoras,

11

University of South Carolina Upstate

Why this love rebecca maycan

Why do we love the ones we love? Why this one and not another? Is there no choice? Are no better to be found? Whilst judging with impartial eyes, I would wonder Why did this one person secure my surrender? Are there not more charming? More cunning? More fair? I trow there are, I will not plea falsely; And thus I could doubt myself, doubt this attachment. And yet, from my heart, from the seat of loves judgment, I know that whats seen is the fools stumbling block; For this love did not spring from dizzy attraction Or grow with an increase of swaggering beauty. Oh no, for it crept, unassuming, along, Dared not lift its head fore the ripening came, But slowly, like unfolding bud, revealed its stunning worth. For it is not a flashy thing, no Claudio and Hero, But oh, the best and dearest kind of volunteer surrender. Indeed, I know I can afford to laugh at our shortcomings, For what is ours is of such worth we need no self-conscious striving.

amanda darchiville
Those sticky embers, This blasphemous ink, Corrodes my mind, at once so fierce. Am I forbidden of normalcy Unlike the ones I love? I attempt to care, I attempt to seek, But nothing breaches this shakable curse. I yearn to love, I yearn to care, The beautiful parts of being. Im not allowed this gift of life, Im called for harder things. I pray the day You erupt my soul, Ill spread my blessed wings.

blue funk

12

13

University of South Carolina Upstate