Pegasus Literary Magazine 2025

Librarians' Dream by Kelly Antunez     Medium: Alcohol Markers

We wake to the quiet before dawn,
a world still wrapped in the weight of yesterday,
but the sun does not ask if we are ready
because it rises anyway.

The miracle is not in the morning,
but in our choosing to get it,
to open our hands to what must be held,
or to loosen our grip on what must be freed.

There is no single hill, no single climb,
but a thousand steps made by those before us
the people who dreamed, who fought, and did it all
carving paths through stone.

We wake up today because they did.
Because their voices refused silence and complaints,
because their hands built what was never meant to be ours,
because their hearts carried hope like an ember
which now burns in me.

And so, we rise.

Not in spite of the weight,

but because we were taught how to carry it. 

Being born on American soil doesn’t make you more worthy; it makes you lucky. Lucky enough to complain about people, people who risk death trying to come into this country. People who cling to the hope that there’s something better waiting for them. 

You must be lucky to label others criminals and treat them as less than human. These people with dreams, with goals, with children, with the desire to build a better life. They look forward to new opportunities not for themselves, but for their families.

America thrives because of immigrants. How can you complain when you haven’t even had a glimpse of what these people go through? How can you reduce these people to animals? 

No matter your race, sexuality, gender - whatever makes you who you are - we’ve all fought for something. Every one of us has struggled.

Can’t that unite us?

“There’s a woman swimming in Arnold Lake. She’s tapping just ever so quietly, knocking on the thin sheet of ice protecting the water from the outside world,” the little girl said, her eyes piercing me as if she was making sure I believed her story.

I let out a slight chuckle to assure the girl I liked her story, yet for some reason, the way she told it sent chills like a cold hand crawling up my spine.

The girl's mother came up and grabbed her by the shoulder, startling the girl. “Samantha, let's not scare strangers.”

“I’m so sorry about her, she likes to… imagine things”

“No worries, I remember what it was like to be that age.” I laughed at the worried mother.

“I haven’t seen you here before. Did you just move into Cooperstown?”

“Oh no, I’m just visiting for New Year's,” I said.

“Why would you do that?” the woman asked with genuine puzzlement. “This town has a way of making people a part of its history. I’m sorry; I hope that wasn’t a rude question.  Anyway, where are you staying?”

Uneasiness pooled in my chest, but I shook it away. “It’s fine. I guess I’m just looking for an escape from the city, something that can make me feel inspired. I’m staying by Arnold Lake. I actually have a cabin right on the water.”

The woman went silent and smiled as if to swallow her thought. “Well, I hope you enjoy your escape. Be safe, the water is deeper than you may expect”. With that strange remark, she waved goodbye and walked away with her child.

I was slightly shaken by her words as her heels tap tap tapped across the tiled floor. Her steps left something in their wake - something that looked like melting ice. 

Through every ache, through every tear,

You stood by me both night and day.

A guiding hand when I was weak,

A steady lead to show the way.

When pain held tight and my hope was thin,

You never let me fall behind.

At times when I was unsure

You stayed patient and kind.

The miles you drove, the time you gave,

Each waiting room, and each long day.

Through every step, your love was there,

You never left, made sure you stay.

When I could not, you stood with grace,

A quiet strength that never swayed,

A comfort time cannot erase,

A debt of love that can't be paid.

So here I stand because of you,

Each stride I take, your care remains,

A grateful heart, a love so true,

Through all the loss, through all the gains.

For every hour that you were there,

For all you did without a sign,

I thank you, Grandma, everywhere—

Your love will always be in mine.

There are a lot of expectations on how relationships should be and on how people should look. We know this because when we are scrolling on tik tok we see someone and we want to look like them or we see a cute proposal which  makes us want something like that. 

Instagram and Tiktok create a negative impact since we don’t know what happens behind the screen but also a positive, helping us have better standards for what we want. When standards are too high, it can make us feel the need to change the way we are.  There is this big stereotype that girls need to be petite, curvy, short, skinny, have a big chest or big butt and be pretty to get someone's attention.  

A lot of us follow influencers who are skinny blondes with blue eyes with many girls who want to look like them. Which leads to them doing anything to look like them which could lead to eating disorders and other big issues. Many teenage girls have the impression that for a boy to want them, they have to look a certain way in their face and their body. That could not be farther from the truth! If someone likes you, they like you and for the way you are. Don’t change yourself for someone, someone will like you for the way you are! 

You’d think I’m talking to girls, but it's also for boys. Girls have the expectation that boys need to be over 6’0 tall with wavy/curly/straight hair and play a sport. Height is something no one can control! If you’re getting to know someone, don’t forget to find out the way they are, not the way they look. Looks are not everything. 

Never change yourself for anyone. If you're gonna change - do it for yourself.

She has been my rock, my shelter, my guide.

Through every storm, every struggle, she stood—

not just for herself, but for me.

Her hands, worn but gentle, have lifted me higher,

her voice, steady and sure, has shaped my strength.

She has given without asking, loved without limits,

fought battles I’ll never fully know—

so I could walk a little lighter.

Because of her, I stand.

Because of her, I rise.

And for her, I will keep climbing.

The world groans in its sleep—

bombs blossom where flowers ought,

mothers flee with empty arms,

and somewhere, some other name

is folded into silence.

The air throbs with sirens,

headlines bleed like wounds,

and the sky has lost

its memory of blue.

We swipe through grief

with tired thumbs,

carry centuries of grief

in the arch of our backs.

Even the moon looks tired

on some nights.

But—

I find a little sweetness,

still as a breath

before a song.

In the warm weight of a dog's head

on my knee,

his trust like a prayer

without words.

In the smell of fresh bread

on a street corner

where no one looks up—

but I did.

In the way a child

draws stars wrong

and still calls it the sky.

In my grandmother's humming

over a sinkful of dishes,

hands moving like time

wrapped in grace.

In a friend who stayed on the phone

even when I didn't talk.

Especially then.

There is devastation everywhere—

yet also,

the rebellious flower of happiness

in places no one finds.

The world breaks apart,

yet still it gives

a cherry blossom in spring,

the smile of a stranger in rain,

a love letter tucked away in a coat pocket.

Not to resolve the pain—

but to remind me

there's still sugar

on the tongue of life,

if I wish to taste it.

It’s just a bit of sweetness.

But it's enough for me.

When will you come home, comrade?

Never was there such a turbulent death,

A strike so peaceful, and yet,

The Buddha mourned,

The Daoist cried,

The Confucian commanded,

And the ancestors foresaw it,

But the comrade died.

And soon comes your funeral,

Cloaked in white and a veil of smoke.

Cries and mourning gone,

But commands remain.

Duty stays, and with it,

Some primordial custodian of face,

Driven to “Cultivate the self”

A simple purpose for a broken man.

Years pass, and still I persist.

In the field, the crops are grown,

But purpose is questioned;

I falter now— the ground approaches.

Yet like a dutiful prisoner,

I stay the course, eternal custodian.

Worn by toil, I know what is needed.

When will you come home, comrade?

当我化为尘土，你会看到我的微笑*

*When I turn to dust, you will see me smile”

My dad who turned “nothing” into a world of everything 

The man who wanted my life to have meaning 

He left his home behind 

Carrying my future in mind 

He gives his hands, hours, and sweat 

To make sure my smile never left. 

My mom who wanted me to be something she could never be 

She wanted me to be free

She gives me everything she never had 

Even if leaving all she knew made her sad 

She gave up her dreams, hopes, and goals

Just so my life could feel whole

My parents, my biggest inspiration 

They deserve all the aspiration  

I want to give them what they deserve

I want to give them back the world.

Call me back to your family.

Call me back to your home country.

I hear your voice in the silence.

I remember the warmth I left behind.

The smell of food, the sound of laughter.

Old photos are still hanging on the wall.

The goodbye I never wanted to say.

My heart stayed when I walked away.

The plane rose into the sky.

I didn’t look back.

I chose a new life.

I know that it may be cheesy .

I know it isn’t what you want to hear. 

But, in the middle of the darkness, 

there is light.

We are waking up to a world in mourning 

society is still storming. 

Now, it is a different battle,

now people are raising their cries.

Tears fall down the eyes of kids 

while they see their lives taken, changed. 

People are being called aliens- 

when did we go from being together and unified 

to taking people’s dreams? 

to taking people's homes?

to taking people's lives?

We stand with every race and workforce. 

We stand with people who need justice. 

We stand with people who raise their cries! 

In all this suffering, we need to be the light!

I wish little things didn't upset me, like how my mascara is off some days or when my pencil falls off my desk or my pen bleeds on my hand; when the ice melts in my coffee or my phone dies, those days when I don't get a high score bowling or lost points on a test. The one time in 100 that the easy thing is so hard.

I wish I had more patience like others do but I find myself getting more upset than usual. I think about how when I was younger I had much more patience and tolerance but that's the past and that old me is gone now. 

Maybe it's because of my environment or because of all of those who are gone: my grandparents, my step mother, my innocence.  Maybe I don’t work to make myself happy as hard as I do to make them proud.

Love, my main source of blood—

Heart’s drowning in alcohol

Dragging enough, stain to a flood

My stereo covered in cold withdrawal

Not at all a joke, oh, please,

Stop, I can't keep laughing

Your humor's a fresh breeze

That poison is what it's masking

A sharp addiction, my lungs all dry,

Stuck in a story, back in the game,

By shards and cuts, my vision awry,

And yet I still want to forget my name.

Better off somewhere else,

The echoes of friends long lost

Stuck following all the bells

Oh, they toll at a cost

But acceptance is overwhelming.

Your warm words, sweet melodies.

My soul relishes in this dwelling.

There's no place I'd rather be.

Never doubt me, baby,

I'll be back tomorrow, you know.

Stay with me, keep me warm, maybe,

This ink and quill won't reap the sins I sow. 

My room was warm with a cool summer breeze,

I was working on my next great project 

until I felt a cold hand on my neck.

I spun around in my chair

face to face with my destiny,

A tall woman with a long black flowing dress 

dark veil over her face.

She stretched one of her long slender arms as an offering

she wanted me to follow her,

I've never seen this lady before 

Yet I knew her as well as an old friend,

familiar and welcoming.

I followed her away from my past

away from my work

leaving behind my old body,

The body that hurt me

that ignored my problems,

And never helped me.

I felt a freeing sensation

I was lighter and happier than ever before.

I followed my tall friend,

through the future watching all the people I’ve cared for 

It felt like watching a movie,

but instead of strangers,

my loved ones,

waiting for the day that I could reunite with them again,

Waiting for the day that I would be able 

to welcome them home.