Writing Across Campus
"Writing Across Campus" is a series founded by Vermilion's Creative Non-Fiction Editor, Nicole Cicippio. She has found pleasure in seeking out the havens on Catholic’s campus that have helped her to escape the bustle of city life and connect with her creative side, which she hopes to share in this series: Writing Across Campus
By Nicole Cicippio
There is a scene from one of the live action Scooby-Doo movies that has stuck with me ever since I was a little kid. I know… that sounds bizarre. But hear me out. The gang (you know, Freddy, Velma, Shaggy, etc.) is in the middle of trying to solve their mystery, and comes across some photograph of “the good old days.” They reminisce, and the movie cuts to a scene of them playing frisbee a few years back.
By Nicole Cicippio
Like any student, I’ve procrastinated my way right up to the deadline of enough essays to have a good feeling when it's going to happen again. My most recent excuse for not having started writing is that I can’t seem to find the location to work. My dorm desk is too cluttered to let me concentrate. It’s too cold to walk to the library. But I promised myself I would get a good start this morning, so I eye my new location: the little round booth table in the very back corner of the Pryzbyla Center Starbucks.
By Nicole Cicippio
I sit. My back is against the stone wall and my legs are stretched out in front of me. Tucked in the shade of the building, just out of reach of the sun’s warmth, I finally feel the characteristics of the recent arrival of autumn. The iron railing to my right, painted a chipping eggshell blue, holds the same chill that runs through the air; I grip it for a moment to absorb the excitement that comes with the change of seasons.
By Nicole Cicippio
I shuffle up the quiet narrow staircase, attempting to soften the clunk of my shoes with each step. Looking down, I notice that there are slight dips in the stone surfaces right where my feet land. How many people must have climbed these stairs? But currently the stacks of Mullen Library are deserted. The sound of my afternoon adventure beats me up the stairs and echoes across the room I enter, accompanied only by the faint sound of a generator.