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redinkmag

wellesley high school's literary & arts magazine

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untitled

a drawing by Iris Xia, ’22

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untitled

a drawing by Iris Xia, ’22

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cat cult

a short story by anonymous

The Amulet of Beatrice Walker gleams unnaturally in the moonlight, casting soft green shadows onto the ground. Frantic hands scrabble to climb up the mound of loamy dirt, scattering dust into the air, scattering dust into the thieves’ lungs, scattering coughs into the air—all muted with a signal from the small black cat seated at the foot of the mound. Continue reading “cat cult”

thirst

a short story by Evan Chu, ’24

I’m not fully human anymore after that incident in the mall…

Tokyo, 1994
My name is Ishiki Matsui. I killed Yamada Hiroki, my classmate and only friend, but it was just a part of my job. He was my prey, and simply a part of my income. I am an assassin. I don’t feel any sorrow because I am the predator, working for anyone that can pay me enough. I have no dreams, no emotions, just the desire to kill. Continue reading “thirst”

diary entry

a short story by Anna McGrew, ’24

December 29th, 2019

Chinese Proverbs, chiiiiineeeeeese proooverbs, chinese prooooooverrrrrbs.
Sometimes when you say the same phrase over again it just sounds like hooey. I mean, I am taking US history class to learn about the US, not freaking Chinese Proverbs. Who even cares about Chinese Proverbs; honestly, I don’t like Chinese proverbs and I’m Chinese. Since I’m Chinese everyone expects me to be Mr. straight A’s even though I have straight C’s. My parents are white, I am adopted, and I am pretty sure I’m stupid. Oh, and I’m not athletic whatsoever. I’m a failure. I can’t do anything by myself without messing it up. So many things are expected of me at school: straight A’s, natural athleticism, and being cool and collected. And I can’t do any of it. People call me fake China at least 10 times a day. I ‘m 16 and I don’t even know what I want to do with my stupid meaningless life. Continue reading “diary entry”

at last

a poem by Clara Renner, ’24

Stepping into the warm sun.
My feet warmed by the soft sand beneath them.
The light wind blowing my long hair.
My sunglasses shading my eyes from the bright sunlight.
The smell of the salty ocean and fresh cinnamon churros on the pier.
My feet washed by the waves of the pleasantly warm crisp blue ocean.
The green palm tree’s leaves gently swaying in the calm wind.
Jumping into the refreshing pool with my brother.
Slowly melting in the toasty hot tub.
Going out for delectable ice cream after an event filled day with my family.
Being in California.
At last.

the mended heart

a metals piece by Jana Chan, ’22

JC Heart 3

my stomps

a poem by Dilen Marra, ’22

I stomp down the path
I watch other people tiptoe down the path
They look like swans swimming down the river that I once fished at
I move with them
We are salmon swimming up the stream of life
I’ve been stomping for an eternity
For if you stomp down the path, one day feels like an eternity Continue reading “my stomps”

you are a lie

a poem by Dilen Marra, ’22

Trust me, I know a lot about lies
And you are a lie
You are the voice in the back of my mind
The voice that tells me that I will see the sun, the candle, and the fireflies
But, what lives inside of me can tell you otherwise Continue reading “you are a lie”

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