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In a Field of Wildflowers

The People You Can’t Pick It was a little over half-a-year or so now that I found myself sitting on the sofa of a stranger. My sketchbook lay in my lap, fingers curled tightly around the sides—a source of comfort….

Farewell Bloomsburg

As I walked directly in the line of a strong February wind, on a late night return from the Harvey Andruss library, I noticed some things that I normally wouldn’t. I passed what used to be a parking lot for…

5 Thoughts on the Night Before Senior Year

You close your eyes and you’re ready for bed. You are finally moved back into Bloom, or if you’re a commuter, you are ready for another semester. You suddenly wake up in the dead of night, turn toward your alarm…