SPARK 2014 Volume 6 Sparked by Inspiration Spark on the Inside
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A REVIEW OF NSCC STUDENT LITERARY & ARTISTIC EXPRESSION SPARK 2014 volume 6 sparked by inspiration spark on the inside Through poetry and stories, 2. Blessed for a Sandwich | Robert Williams 25. Sight | Emma Kraus photographs and drawings, 2. Desire | Emma Kraus 25. Thomas Law from the Worlds End | Jack Raubach 3. Alleyway in Cambridge | Katie Dapice 26. Futura | Colleen Bertolino Spark showcases the talent and 4. Flora | Delia Faria 26. Perspective Grid | Heidi Totman spirit of students at North Shore 5. Alphabet Soup | Linda Tran 27. To the author of the New England Courant | Jill Gallant 6. Getting Groceries | By Rachel Xhemajli 28. Disney Alphabet | Jacqueline Martinez Community College. This sixth 8. Self Portraits: Angelica Martinez 28. Untitled | Danielle Tracey Margaret Lee 29. Sanctuary | Trinidad Martinez Hudson issue of Spark is dedicated to the Leah Bolduc Gwendolyn Squires 30. Old Tango | Ilya Prints persistence of vision, forward Heidi Totman 31. Untitled | Nicole Mclellan movement, and the knowledge 10. Teachers: The Forgotten Heros | Beatrice Varga 31. Fan Art | Jenniina Vaara that creativity is its own reward. 11. Timeless | Nicole Mclellan 32. A Tribute to Sappho | Danielle Tracey 12. Stay | Kara Claflin 32. The Wave | Jess Dansereau Enjoy. 12. Soar | Toni Orlando 33. Lines & Shadows | Jess Dansereau LONDON 13. Who Made You Like This? | Adrianna Almonte 33. Peaceful | Heidi Totman 14. Folliage Face | Margaret Lee 33. River Sunset | Toni Orlando Big Ben 15. Hurricane at West Beach | Angelica Martinez 33. Vapor Trails | David Salucco 16. These Promises | Jonathan Hammond 33. Winter | Gary Lucas 16. Morning Dew | Toni Orlando 33. Solitude–Wildcat Mountain | David Salucco 17. Symmetry | Jess Dansereau 34. SUBURBIA | Robert Williams 17. Playing with the Wind | Trinidad Martinez Hudson 34. Sea Urchin Skull | Angelica Martinez 18. Album: Are You Experienced? | Calvin Gil 35. Tumblr | Nicole Mclellan 21. High Grade | Jacqueline Martinez 35. FOTO | Kelsie Verdini 22. Seven Days of Torment | by Jonathan Hammond 35. Black & White Still Life | Katie Dapice 22. Havasupai Mail | Jess Dansereau 35. Salem Windsposter | Jenniina Vaara 22. Fine Strokes | Emma Kraus 36. Bloom | Toni Orlando 23. Lullaby of the Nimph | Trinidad Martinez Hudson 23. Glowing Stars | Emma Kraus 24. Your Face Reminded Me of Sneakers | Jessie Nocella Click the link on our Spark page: www.northshore.edu/spark on the cover: Mirror Image | Katie Dapice 1. SPARK 2014 volume 6 Blessed for a Sandwich By Robert Williams I didn’t attend to be blessed, Others stayed to be blessed, I only went for a sandwich. After they had eaten their sandwich. When the preacher lady struck up her acoustic guitar, They stayed for the singing, I made for the exit. Because they believed. It wasn’t that I wasn’t grateful, I was just starving, I was hungry too. Hadn’t eaten for days. I didn’t go to be blessed, I didn’t go to be blessed. I was only there for the sandwich. I was only there for the sandwich. Cheese and egg–very nice too. It wasn’t that I didn’t appreciate the food, Others did too. But I didn’t go to be blessed. A Hiker’s View Sam Gottlich Alleyway in Cambridge | Katie Dapice Desire Emma Kraus 2. SPARK 2014 volume 6 3. SPARK 2014 volume 6 Flora Delia Faria Alphabet Soup Linda Tran 4. SPARK 2014 volume 6 GETTING this stuff … Teddy Grahams. Sasha was born. He remembered Gently placing his hand over woman—freckled, pretty. What to He needed to go to the gym; he “He fumbled Sean, too, but… he remembered his navel and his blue button- write? His pen waved wildly as he GROCERIES should have gone today, but he Sasha. She was so small, so loud, down, he squeezed. If this gets tapped it off the table. His eyes By Rachel Xhemajli didn’t. He was tired. Presentation for the list as so pink that day. He was younger; any worse, it’s got to be looked squinted slightly as they centered tomorrow morning. And lately, he he was thinner; he was happy, but at. An agitated exhale. Turning on the chalkboard. Who Will A pair of heavy eyes passed hadn’t been feeling well. A dull his gut began he had the same watch. slightly, he navigated his awkward You Be When You Grow Up? His through the parking lot, the door. ache permeated deep in his gut. cart into the shortest checkout steady gaze shifted and fell onto Slowly, he wrapped his large Occasionally, the feeling would to nag, the Bottled water. Apple juice. line. the portrait beside the board—a hands around the cracked handle rise until he was reminded of the His ruddy index finger traced wounded man with kind eyes. of the germ-infested cart. lunch he’d swallowed that day. eager aching along the endless colored labels “Did you find everything Finally, pen met paper. growing.” and their standard plastic alright?” … Bananas. Oranges. Spinach. Rice. Pasta. Ragu. He counterparts. “Mixed Berry… Making his way through the weaved—a warp, a weft—through no… Grape juice… no.” Grape Cart contents clanked onto the “Is it alright if I put the bread produce on his left, he passed the the familiar walls of food. Two pounds of lean ground juice? What mother lets their child splotchy black belt. in with the eggs?” peaches, returning to August. “Ragu… Ragu…” His eyes shrank beef. From the corner of his eye, drink grape juice? … and throbbed as he squinted and orange flashed. Turning his head, … “Oh… yeah. Thanks.” “Excuse me?” scoured for the “godawful sauce.” he found that a tight pair of The heat was heavy, He found it, grabbed it, and as he jeans and a billowy pink blouse The purple pest swirled and He piled on the oranges, the “Bread with the eggs… is that murderous, but vindicated by the leaned to drop it into the cart—just went along with her smooth, splatted, leaving its singular Pringles, the water bottles—there ok?” busty flavor of the air. There stood another victim of the McFarland bright hair. She was browsing the mark on his freshly-pressed white was never any particular order. the tree, nodding to him as usual family feeding frenzy—he stopped breakfast sausages. He stopped button-down. He’d learned something about “That’s—uh—that’s fine.” He as it straightened and sagged. And and twirled the jar in his hands. behind her long denimed legs, life. No matter how you arranged hid his gaze. there was his mother, bent over … and as he leaned, right arm thrust “Oh man, mom is gunna be so your groceries, it was the cashier the majesty of the laden branches, forward, he stole a glimpse of the mad.” who assembled the bags. The final plastic bag was her black hair grazing the fragrant There she stood, aproned and cream behind her mostly buttoned nudged into the cart. A polite nod green blades. He’d never known frantic, suddenly all too aware blouse. “No! Give me those!” “Comes to seventy three dollars to the faceless cashier and he made peaches to look so beautiful and of the fact that the meatloaf was and twelve cents.” his way to the exit, conscious of taste so bitter. smoking. Kimmy. Loose, wiry “Excuse me… I just got to get He remembered ripping the the gnawing in his gut. Abruptly … waves slipped discreetly from some beef, here” lump of paper napkins from He slashed his card through the he stopped, staring curiously at a her hasty ponytail. From across his younger brother’s hand. familiar black box. brightly colored sheet suspended Corn flakes. Granola bars. He the room he could see the tiny “Oh... sorry” she muttered He scrubbed, he splashed, he on a corkboard, its little paper rushed through the cereal aisle. drops of sweat burning on her without lifting her eyes—grabbed scrubbed, he splashed. It was “Can I borrow your pen?” legs dangling beneath. He tore Checked his watch—quarter to six. temples. He recalled the china, her her meat of choice and headed routine. Hardly anything to freak … one off. In a moment, his eyes It was Thursday. He winced as mother’s embroidered napkins, toward the frozen food. over, but what did David know, panted then shimmered. His pie charts and yellow highlighter candlelight (which he couldn’t he was seven. Every first Sunday Colored construction paper large hands gripped, cradled, and glared into his tired eyes. remember but, doubtless, it was He fumbled for the list as his of the month, they’d sneak into was passed around the table. finally released the folds of his Presentation tomorrow morning— there)—she wanted it to be perfect. gut began to nag, the eager aching the church’s metal kitchen after Crayons, markers, pencils, blue button-down. The automatic braced himself then grunted as his As far as he was concerned, it growing. Milk. Eggs. Jelly. He service and down all the grape pens scratched and drenched door yawned. He left the store. thought landed the punch. always was. She always was. Was. shrugged through the labyrinth. juice. Now Dave was married, the bright, fragile sheets. He … Checked his watch—five after kids—he still went to church. He remembered Mrs. Benson, his Pringles (green can)… can’t six. He remembered the day that was still happy. Sunday school teacher, sitting believe Kim lets the kids eat … there watching, her pregnant body bulging with life. She was a good 6. SPARK 2014 volume 6 7. SPARK 2014 volume 6 Self Portraits clockwise (from top left): Angelica Martinez Margaret Lee Leah Bolduc Gwendolyn Squires Heidi Totman 9.