How to Destroy Prom Night in 30 Minutes Or Less

There were three things that went into having the perfect prom night: the perfect date, the perfect dress, and the perfect look.

By the day of prom, I was already 0 for 3. I had rejected one of my childhood friends in the middle of my high school’s homecoming game, to wait on the mysterious boy in my math class that I knew was going to ask me out.

I was wrong, per usual.

My dress, albeit gorgeous, had a ton of flaws that I strived to work around because of the price point. The zipper was broken and jewels kept falling off the front of the gown. But, who could say that they got their prom dress for under sixty bucks at a local thrift store?

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The Lake Speaks

This is a guest piece from Jacklyn Janeksela. More of her work can be found here and here

The years run into each other, stream to source. Lake Superior, awash with childhood fractals, holds us close, despite freezing over. It is the coldest of the great lakes. Every chill I’ve ever felt brings me back to its clear shores where I hunt 60 varieties of orchids. Symbiotes should be respected for durability and ingenuity. A seed that demands fungi to push growth edges.
When I arrive at the lake, I forget if I’m pursuing flower or the ghost of Nana. The lake has been known to not give up its dead. I don’t dare test the theory. Although, I’m tempted.

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We’re approaching the lake, much like Objibways who arrived in 500 B.C. They claim Nanabijou, the spirit of the deep-sea water, protects the lake. We are coming from The Apostle Island sea caves, ancestral flint and stone. The road leading us there is full of icicle splinters. Someone is bound to touch one.

The lake is so crisp we hear it crack, then wheeze –we lean in as if it speaks. And it does, each one of us hears something different

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