page 2...untitled by Audrie Francispage 3...Interstellar by Kevin Alvarezpage 4...Bone by Tristan Josephpage 5...Lawman by Kevin Alvarezpage 6...Nailpolish by Melanie Dalbypage 7...NETWORK ERROR: FAILURE TO CONNECT by Sam Yoonpagepage 8...Pinstripe by Kevin Alvarezpage 9...Perspective by Sam Yoonpage 10...Murphy’s Law by Miles Mistler

Trombone of bones. The darkest most, well, bone-chilling instrument I’ve ever seen. It doesn’t

make music, it makes noise: a screeching that chills the blood. Only once have I ever seen such a device,

but not one, no. I heard hundreds. I saw hundreds.

It was in a dream. And some will sigh at this point, let out their pent up breath, and relax,

thinking, “It was only a dream.” But if you had this dream you wouldn’t think so. It was more real and

more disturbing than any stroll I’ve ever taken in the dark before. The sun had dipped low on the

hohorizon of a cool summer night. But that coolness quickly deepened to cold. I had taken a left on

Haverford Ave, my normal routine, but noticed an alley that I had never noticed before. Now why would

anyone be so stupid as to turn down that alley you ask? But curiosity had long ago sunk its claws deep

into my esh. And it’s not as though I was in a dangerous area. It was my town, it was familiar, but for

that alley. So I strolled across the street and walked its length, the eerie sense of shrinking

accompanying me. The alley was long, and I stepped into an incomprehensibly deep darkness. It wasn’t

a notia noticeable change, it was a gradual shift where, when you nally realize, it’s too dark to contemplate.

The end of the cobblestone alley was three blank walls, but there was a corner with a three foot gap,

emitting the smallest of lights. I crawled on my knees and looked through, but I couldn’t make out what I

was seeing. Well I sure hadn’t come all that way to turn back with my mystery unsolved. With a quick

glance back down the alley, I dropped to my belly and wriggled my way through. I strolled forward

moving towards an orchestra pit. The areas was dimly lit and deserted. I thought.

AAnd then it began. Skeletons rose on rotating pedestals and the trombones, the keystone of the

unnatural performance, descended from the ceiling. Their keening rang through the amphitheater,

entrancing me. I was trapped in an unnerving stupor. Then the chills ran up my back, I could feel eyes

scanning me, crawling on my skin. I glanced down in horror as an icy grip took my forearm, a grotesque

rotting hand gleaming with moonlight through the open roof.

NETWORK ERROR: FAILURE TO CONNECT The most difficult taskthat exists in our worldis finding the combination of arbitrary lettersto truly expressto truly expressevery random thoughtthat holds us together.Because all of the late nightsin our heads mean absolutely nothingif no one is on the other sideto understandthat the utterances of our tonguethat the utterances of our tongueare ustrying to escapeus.

Murphy’s Law:When moving clothesfrom the washer to the dryer, you will drop at leastone sock.