Alyssa Cink
Words escape me these days. I find myself writing them haphazardly on the nearest scrap of paper, only to return to my desk moments later and witness its empty, paperless surface. Secret clues remind me of the words I once wrote: a splotch of oil here where my nervous hands crossed the page, a blackened
Potterheads, rejoice! With July 19’s announcement of two new books and a limited-time exhibition at the British Library, fans of J.K. Rowling’s wizarding world have seen a summer of Harry Potter-related projects worth celebrating—and, more likely than not, shuffling through one’s merchandise with the hopes of finding a Time-Turner capable of transporting oneself to October.
A malevolent force exists among us. I like to call mine the Invisible Enemy because, as the title implies, no one else can see it. It is truly and irreconcilably my own, constantly adapting to whatever physical and emotional situations I am currently experiencing. In other words, it is the darker side of the voice
His throne room lies vacant before us, the halls of his reign, oblique, the air of his fellowship encapsulated in heaps of golden dust, remnants of pride, of arrogance, resentment, mutiny, and bitter, iron greed. Incriminate us, if you will; accuse us of slander, if you please. But when we lifted those shining, rubicund curtains
