The theme of this issue of East Pennsboro's literary magazine is Solstice. A solstice occurs twice a year, both in summer and in winter. It marks the time when the sun is at its highest or lowest point in the sky. During the winter the sun is at its lowest and the day has the least amount of daylight out of the whole year. From then on, the days increase and the sun remains out for longer and longer periods of time until the summer solstice.
Solstice serves as a reminder that though the winter months are cold, dark, and dreary; light always comes at the end. In life, no matter how hard times can be, there will always be some good that shines through into the hardship. Hold that light with you in the dead of winter and you will never grow cold.
Lexi-Olive Lambert, Editor
by Jared Pegnetter
Orange, brown, red, and yellow,
the colors falling all about and lay upon the ground.
The air grows brisk and chills the soul,
the clouds of white flow,
as crystals form upon the leaves.
The sky has greyed and temperatures drop.
Pumpkins tossed away,
as the lights begin to twinkle from house to house.
Decorations fill the streets, and inside,
trees glow bright with colorful ornaments and bulbs alight.
These changes so welcomed by many,
signify the coming of a great change in color.
Oranges, browns, reds, and yellows,
will all disappear below a beautiful blanket blown from the sky.
Snow falls upon the ground and transforms the town.
No longer is it autumn, today, winter falls upon us!
art by Bryn Powley
Translated by Ava Wentzel
December 1966:
This will be my first journal entry, my spirit carries on although my embodiment has been destroyed. The wonderful people of my hometown constructed me with care. Building me a beautiful wooden armature and filling me with straw. I, the Yule goat, 41 feet tall, stood over the town of Gävle high and proud. The folks came to view my presence and admire me. Children ran and played tag right around me. The holiday season created me, but I was a symbol of the wonder the season brought within people's hearts. Christmas was a joyful celebration, illuminating my town with happiness.
However, the winter holidays were spiraling to an end, and it was New Year's Day of 1966 that permanently cemented my legacy. A man lit me up in flames. I burned, and I burned, and I burned. Sizzle. The chief of the fire department built me, and he watched me burn. The whole town watched me smolder to the ground. I heard the arsonist responsible may receive charges, but it will never make up for trauma he has caused my spirit. I hope my physical form is brought back next year. It is hard to say.
December 1973:
Since my last log, I have been inflamed two other times, smashed to pieces, and my poor construction resulted in my own self-destruction. The attackers have got to be kidding me. Although, my current situation is horrifying, I am rather flabbergasted. I, the Yule goat, 41 feet tall, am being held in captivity. I need help! If anyone finds this: they are pulling me apart so violently, straw by straw. The man said they are using my insides to build scarecrows for the farm, but I cannot take the pain any longer. The only thing I am grateful for is not being burned at the stake (I guess). I will get you back for this, you silly kids.
December 1993:
After years of damage, (catch me featured in the Guinness Book of World Records), I have not much else to say other than: Please, people of the world, stop lighting me on fire. If you continuously were combusted, I am sure you would not exude merriment.
December 2010:
I find the events that transpired today extremely odd. While I was doing my duty of bringing Christmas cheer to my little old town, the very handsome security guard that defends me was approached. The man was very scrawny and strange looking. He proposed that he kidnap me, the Yule goat, 41 feet tall, with his helicopter. Not for no reason though, he proposed cash for my life. Ideally, I would have enjoyed watching my friend, the security guard hurling snow at the man's peculiar face; instead, he simply waved him away.
by Olivia Haring
Love is like long car rides;
Exciting and adventurous.
Love is like fresh fruit;
Sweet and refreshing.
Love is like freshly bloomed flowers;
Colorful and bright.
Love is like the sing-song of birds;
Calming and hopeful.
Love is like butterflies;
Delicate and beautiful.
Love is like summer,
and all of its perfection.
art by Olivia Ozio
by Jared Pegnetter
Never enough would words be
To describe what you mean to me
You bring joy and laughter
That makes me happy forever after
Bright smiles that warm my core
And your laughter I truly adore
Conversations I wish to never end
My heart, to you, I entrust and lend
To trust others, I have an issue
But when you go, I really miss you
When we talk I try to play it cool
And do my best not to be a fool
Many times, my feelings, I try to share
But then decide I shouldn’t dare
Losing you would amount to
A detective without a clue,
The sun without the moon
A song without its tune
Truly you are the best
Above all the rest
By my side you have been
With you I know I’ll win.
by Antwan Campbell
During the winter a new food swept across America that was on everyone's mind. This food item was so popular that there were long lines at every single one of the stores where the food was sold. Some of the stores would even run out of this food item. This was ... a Popeyes' Chicken sandwich. And all of your favorite childhood characters wanted to try this chicken sandwich. One of them was Frosty The Snowman.
Frosty the Snowman heard about this new trend and decided that he wanted to see what all the hype was about. So on one snowy day in December, Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph, and Saint Nick decided to take a trip to their local Popeyes restaurant to get their hands on their own Popeyes' chicken sandwich. Once the trio got to Popeyes, they noticed something that would put a wrench into their plans. The line was two miles long!
photo by Josh Steinhart
The three were predictably upset. Then Saint Nick had an idea, and he said the trio should just go to another Popeyes restaurant to see if that one had a shorter line. Rudolph and Frosty thought it was a good idea. So the three of them then went to another Popeyes store to see if there was a shorter line, and if it had the chicken sandwich available.
The second Popeyes they went to did have a shorter line, because no one was in the store! Frosty asked a Popeyes worker to see why the store was empty. The worker then said that they ran out of chicken to make the Popeyes' chicken sandwiches, and they wouldn't get a new shipment of chicken for a couple of weeks. The trio was understandably upset at the bad news they had just received. The trio then decided to head to another Popeyes store to get their chicken sandwich, since the other two stores either had a long line or were out of chicken sandwiches. The third one must be the right one, right?
Well, that ended up being wrong when it came to these three travelers looking for the ultimate chicken sandwich of the 21st Century. The third store they went to was closed since it was after hours. Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph, and Saint Nick were all disappointed that they were not able to get their hands on a delicious Popeye's chicken sandwich. Frosty said that there has got to be more chicken sandwiches available somewhere. Then, a Popeyes worker came out of the store and said that there were no more chicken sandwiches available in any Popeyes store in Pennsylvania, and that most other stores ran out. The three were all notably upset by this disappointing news. The trio then decided to give up on their chicken sandwich hunting since they couldn't find any sandwiches.
A couple weeks later on Christmas day. Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph, and Saint Nick all found something special underneath their Christmas trees. Three Popeyes' chicken sandwiches for each one of them to enjoy.
by Ganen Chinniah
You are always so supportive of me
So for your presence I plea
You keep me cozy
So I write you something rosy
I think all the time about being with you
Those are the best times, I know it true
We don't see each other during the day
But at night on your sheets I lay
When I’m with you I never want to leave
When my alarm sounds in the morning I grieve
The day I leave you I dread;
My queen size bed
by Lexi-Olive Lambert
Lab coats
Disinfectant
Fluorescent lights
Cries for help ineffective
Hidden bunkers
Strange hybrids
Crazed experiments
Or just terrified kids?
What makes a mutant?
Guns drawn
Orders shouted
Stay hidden
Or else be outed
Blood on the ground
The faux king
Bears his crown
Why make a mutant?
Families torn
Stay away
They’re the hunters
And we’re the prey
Battle cry
Bodies down
Our parts to use
Another time around
We’re the monsters that fuel their glories
They’re the villains in our stories
❆ Solstice 9 ❆Here I am dashing down the soccer field in my first ever EPLW game.
Here I am learning how to shoot the ball with my laces.
Here I am getting schooled by my dad when I challenge him to a match.
Here I am as I partake in my first middle school soccer game.
Here I am rolling out of bed at 6:30 am to go for a run.
Here I am coming home sore from my late night gym sessions.
Here I am hoping my coach will just give me a chance.
Here I am getting my name called out in the starting lineup of a district game as a freshman.
Success is no accident
by Samantha Kintzel
The wind is blowing and yet the candle light
still does not go out.
When it doesn't shine or glow like it used to,
I light the flame again -
to give it a new hope for a new tomorrow,
a new beginning.
Even though the wick is short,
the wax melted, misshapen over time,
it still has a meaning and a purpose.
All you have to do is find it,
hidden underneath all of the cobwebs and the dust.
But when you light it up with the slightest flame,
a whole new world of light opens up
and the candle has a new meaning.
Maybe you lost the light from the candle for a little while,
but when it burns again,
you can find your way home.
The smallest flicker of light can show the beauty
and darkness surrounding the darkest stars.
They just needed help finding the light
that guided them to be bright in the first place.
The wind is blowing,
and yet my candle's light won’t go out,
will yours?
by Paris Marie Kelly
The sound of the waves crashing made the morning feel more relaxed and peaceful as Cady Dean walked along the sand. The wind blew her long brown hair as she continued walking. The sound of seagulls filled the morning air as she glanced down at the sand for seashells, seaweed, and items that people had lost over time.
She had lived on Southside beach her entire life and had always dreamed of someday being a marine biologist, so she enjoyed seeing the different animals that lived on the beach or in the water. She had always wanted to be a marine biologist because her grandmother was one her entire life until she passed away. Cady was eighteen years old, and was half way through her senior year in high school, and wanted to continue her education and to go to college the following year. Her dad also lived with her and he owned a bait shop close to the beach. After school, Cady would come and work with her dad and the other employees in the shop. She had worked in the shop since she was about nine years old and enjoyed doing it.
Cady walked for a few hours taking in the breathtaking view of the sunset over the ocean, but now she had to go to her dad’s bait shop to work for the rest of the afternoon. She started to walk back up to the boardwalk and to work. As soon as she arrived, she immediately got to work. “Good morning Mr. Davis,” Cady said. Mr. Davis was a local fisherman who would come to the shop most afternoons to get bait to fish with before sunset. He always got the same bait, a container of chopped squid and about 30 minnows. When Mr. Davis finished getting his bait and left the shop, Cady packed up her belongings and started coming home.
photos by Leah Miller
As she walked home, she decided to stop and eat dinner. She stopped at her favorite restaurant, The Seaside Eatery. Cady often went there for dinner after work, and she was good friends with the employees because some of her friends from school worked there. When she arrived, she sat down and was welcomed by many of her friends. Her friend Alyssa took her order and then sat down to talk with her while Cady waited for her food.
After eating, she left the restaurant and walked home to her house. She walked in and her mom gave her a hug and asked how work was. Cady’s mom worked as a registered nurse and also worked in the bait shop when she was off. Cady told her mom about her day, while on the beach and at work, then she went and did her school work.
Cady enjoyed going to school. She was a very quiet girl but she still had lots of friends, like the ones who worked at the Seaside Eatery. She did very well in school and was favored by many of her teachers. After finishing her school work, Cady took a shower, texted some of her friends, and got ready to go to bed.
The next morning, Cady woke up to the smell of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. She had a plan to go out on the beach in the morning to see what items had washed on shore overnight. She got dressed in shorts, and a short sleeve top, and packed her bag that included items like sunscreen, an extra shirt, and a few snacks for the day. Once Cady packed her things, she ran downstairs to eat with her parents. Her dad had to go to work for the day and since her mom was off, she would be working in the shop too. After breakfast, Cady started to walk to the beach and her parents went into the car and drove to work.
Once Cady arrived at the beach, she walked along the sand beside the sparkling ocean. She looked at all the seashells, seaweed, and rocks that washed on shore overnight. She usually kept her most favorite shells and sometimes made them into different items like necklaces and bracelets.
She continued walking and greeted other people on the beach, who were also looking for seashells. She looked up to watch the sun rise over the the ocean, and when she looked backed down in front of her on the beach, she saw what looked like a rock about the size of two-thirds of her arm. The dark shape suddenly moved.
She ran up to the object and she was completely shocked. It wasn’t a rock like she first thought, but it was a baby leather back sea turtle. Cady was so surprised because it was hardly moving and she knew that something was wrong. She took a closer look and realized that one of the plastic rings from a six-pack of soda bottles was wrapped around the neck of the turtle. She had to do something before the turtle died. Blood was rushing out of the wound from the plastic around the turtle’s neck. The animal looked about three weeks old and still had a long life ahead of it. There weren't many people around to help, so she immediately grabbed ahold of the plastic with both hands and tore it apart. Finally, the turtle was free, but she still had open wounds around her neck and some were extremely deep cuts. If Cady didn’t do anything, the baby turtle would be dead.
She picked up the turtle by its shell and started to run to the closest vet. Cady ran as fast as she could because the turtle was still bleeding heavily and needed help. As soon as she arrived at the vet, the vet took her in and started to give her stitches on her neck to close the wounds. Once the surgery was done, Cady had the choice of taking the turtle back to the ocean herself or having the vet get someone to release it back into the ocean for her.
Cady felt a strong connection with the turtle. She decided to take the baby turtle with her, so she could release it herself. But after thinking for a while, Cady thought that when she released the turtle, she would never see it again. She decided to secretly keep it with her until she was ready to let go.
Cady started to walk home and realized that she didn’t name the turtle yet. She picked the perfect name, Baby Nyla. She named the turtle Baby Nyla because Nyla was her grandmother’s name. Cady’s grandmother had inspired Cady to become a marine biologist, so she knew that it would be the perfect name.
When Cady arrived home, she rushed up to her bathroom and put the turtle in her tub. She knew that Nyla needed water to survive, and she needed it quickly. There wasn’t enough time for her to run back down to the beach to and get natural salt water, so Cady researched online on how to make her own saltwater. She created the mixture and Nyla started to play in it right away. Cady also realized that Nyla needed to eat. Cady’s parents were still working in the bait shop but were getting ready to go home. She immediately called her dad and told him to bring her five medium sized jellyfish from the shop. Her dad wondered why she needed jellyfish but still got them for her.
When Cady’s parents got home, they gave Cady the jellyfish and asked what it was for. She didn’t want to tell them that there was a real life leatherneck sea turtle currently living in her bathtub, so she just said that it was for a school project.
She took the jellyfish back up to the bathroom and fed them to Nyla. Nyla was a very playful turtle, and it seemed like nothing had ever happened to her. She splashed around in the water, and it looked like she was having a lot of fun.
Cady watched Nyla play and thought of how wonderful it would be to keep Nyla forever, but there was only one problem: Cady had to go to school tomorrow. Cady didn’t know who could take care of Nyla every day when she was at school all week. Also, she would be going to college the following year and couldn’t keep Nyla with her. Cady didn’t want to let go, but she was starting to realize that she had to.
The following morning before school, Cady woke up early to release Nyla. She carried Nyla in a blanket all the way to the beach. Cady started crying knowing that she would probably never see Nyla again. Then, Cady had an idea. She went into her bookbag and grabbed a bottle of non-toxic, pink, permanent paint. Then painted a piece of the shell about the size of her thumb on the top of the shell. Cady did this because when she would become a marine biologist, she would study turtles, and if one of them had a pink spot on the top of its shell, she would know it was Nyla.
Cady released Nyla and watched her crawl into the ocean. While Cady watched Nyla crawl into the ocean, she said to herself, “Please come back.”
❆ Solstice 14 ❆by Sicily Wotring
When you say flower
I think of something delicate,
Delicate like my skin,
My skin is so soft
Even words can hurt it,
The words puncture the layers
Around my blood,
My blood is suffocated by these three
Soft, smooth, gentle layers of skin,
Under that skin there is not only blood
There are emotions,
My emotions are colored,
Colored like the flowers under the tree
They speak like the whistling through the leaves,
And the leaves fly away like my dreams
photo by Sarah Wrightstone
by Sarah Alraddahi
The old saying goes, “You can take a horse to the pond,
but you can’t make it drink.”
I guess you’re the horse, and I’m the leader.
No matter what I do, I can never get your attention
But if I do, it doesn’t last longer than a second.
You’re a storm, but you make me rain tears,
and then my tears turn into a flood.
I know why I can’t quit this: you’re like a ghost
that haunts me, and I can feel your presence -
cold, unwelcoming.
You might as well be a stain that I can’t get rid of.
You’re a parasite feeding on my blood - until I pass out.
And after I wake, I hope that my ghost will know…
you were never worth it.
by Samantha Grubb
It’s been below freezing for a week. Most people would grieve this icy forecast, but not me. Below freezing means fresh powder at Roundtop Mountain Resort.
Counting down the hours, I stare at the clock in Statistics. When the high-pitched bell finally rings, I rush out to the parking lot. My friends and I throw our backpacks in the trunk of my car and we drive away, our skis mounting the roof of my Toyota Camry.
We wind through the back roads, listening to sounds of acoustic guitar and slow, soft voices. As we approach the mountain, my heartbeat quickens. I park the car, throw on my equipment, and finally hit the slopes.
Fresh powder rushes through the air as my skis cut back and forth through the snow. My skis come to a halt and I stare back up at the downhill slope: I am in love.
by Kyra Boston
art by Samantha Kintzel
Storms will come from time to time,
They encroach on what was a beautiful day.
Some storms, violent and consuming,
Are what you fear as a little girl.
Few and far between,
The ones that ring through your body resonating in the ear,
The single moments altering an entire perspective,
But the ringing of each crack is impossible to forget,
Other storms though, gradual and oncoming,
Can be just as painful.
Allowing you to anxiously watch,
On the lookout for signs,
Which murmur “watch out, prepare your heart,”
Readying one for the inevitable lesson.
By today, August 18, I had already experienced four storms.
Two which I can never forget, the fear of experiencing such pain again too strong,
Two which will one day only exist as a lesson of what is to be desired.
Yet, this morning I again feared of a new storm,
Where you too would be lost.
But now we stand, propped against your blue Fit,
Hand in hand,
Head on shoulder,
Watching the flashes of light in the clouds slowly move away.
I no longer dread a new storm.
And for the first time, you whisper three words.
Finally, I realize I would endure those storms again,
For the promise to hear you say “I love you” eternally.