Through the Lily’s Eyes

Paria Shahir (9) | STAFF REPORTER

He was headed for downtown. 

As the old man stepped out of the bus, he placed his hat back on his head, adjusted his coat, and set off down the simmering pavement with his leather loafers. After a few minutes of walking through the overwhelming commotion of the streets, he arrived at the art store. He opened the door to chime the bell hung from the ceiling, and entered the dim shop redolent of wood and paint.  read more

Autumn Avenue

Paria Shahir (9) | STAFF REPORTER

I strolled down a pathway of leaves, hand in hand with the wind. This valley, secluded from the rest of the world, is formed from opposite rows of trees, standing as fleets moored to the earth and unshaken against the herald of battle ushered in by the breeze. As I drifted down carelessly, a gust of frenzied wind sprung from behind. The wind, once my companion, snaked its way out of my hand, and right then, whispered the news of a distant deluge approaching from above. read more

Listened

Paria Shahir (9) | STAFF REPORTER

I sat on my chair scouring through my mind, feeling very sedentary, searching for an excuse for the anger I carried everywhere with me. As the heart meandered through the mind–or perhaps it was the other way around, I’m not sure–I heard the first drops of rain hitting the ground. The gentle thrumming turned into a cloudburst at once. I struggled to rise from my chair, pull back the thick shut curtains, and watch the night getting more blurry and vague each second. I was pushed back on the chair in awe of the delicate music being played outside. read more