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m o m e n t s

Joshua Wangia '25



An autumn afternoon. He’s running, the air fresh and cold in his lungs. With his teammates behind him, he runs glorying in the October wind.


Silence. She looks him in the face, unsure if he’s genuine or if it was only a joke. His sweaty hands and nervous eyes tell all.


He wakes up dazed on his kitchen floor, bottles surrounding him. What happened last night? Oh. That happened. His headache worsens.


The ball left his hands, his future on the line. The scout is watching as the buzzer sounds. The ball approaches its target in slow motion.


She lays by herself in her bed, reading. She wishes she lived the type of life her characters do. She wants someone to love her.


They sit distanced across the room, each catching the other staring occasionally, both wondering what the other is thinking.


He rests his head against the window, AirPods in his ears. Only music can make him feel anything anymore.


He looks over his shoulder at her one last time. Her back is turned, as usual.


She looks at the floodlights from the turf. A couple more seconds and the team will win the biggest game of the season. Eyes closed, a smile ghosts upon her lips.


He lies under the tree, pondering. He notes life’s beauty and falls asleep.


She stares at her phone, every thought leaving her mind. She’s wanted this for so long that it feels like a dream. She laughs.


He glories in the fact that she loves him. He wakes up from a life he was finally content with. He realizes it was a dream and sobs.


He sits in the car, late at night, enjoying the tilt of the earth. He studies the stars before him.


She’s in the middle of hundreds of people, but still alone.


He lives.


She lives.


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