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prose by Caterina Baffa, ’17 It was a wrong number that started it, the telephone ringing three times in the dead of night, and the voice on the other end asking for someone he was not.* “Gerald?” crackled an elderly voice, practically bursting Sam’s still sleeping ears, “Gerald, it is absolutely imperative that you come…
poem by Anonymous There is a darkness piercing and choking. Last night my body contorted, twisted toward the ceiling. broken limbs and hidden hands.
Red Ink is already up & running for the 2016-2017 school year. Our staff is ready to accept any new members & plenty of new submissions! To submit, just email your artwork (visual art, writing, video, music, etc.) to redinkmag@gmail.com with your name and grade — please look at the submission guidelines for more details. If…
story excerpt by Tristan Martello, ’20 and Russell Hornung, ’20 MICK After Reece regained his health, we set out towards the gold rush. We drove up to an open field in front of the mountain full of gold. The truck wobbled, and pieces broke off, one after another. We slowed to a stop. We saw two…
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