Milton Academy - Yearbook (Milton, MA)

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Q . E 1? Q Anonymous Nick Dubrul THUMB SCREWS Seething, I lie of reasons and places. Others push me onward, to her But still I move with classic conscience - I don,t know if I want her: Is it affection or desire? Oh yes, the beauty deceives, like the tightening of a bolt. I'm looking for excuses, directions? Through the threshold of limbo Once again I've idealized it: Like a marble statue in a fancy garden. But then Back to the ever shortening spaces Under thresholds. Anonymous J

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Chris Lemley first-hand or whether they were echoes. The music was muffled and distanced but the laughter cut through it. I wonder if there are any nice looking girls, said Fred after a few minutes. There always are a few. Maybe we should go back be- fore it gets too late.', Tom looked at his watch. There's plenty of time. Besides, I'm enjoying myself. He drained his bottle and threw it into the pond, then he watched it drift away. C'mon, give me a beer, he said. He was totally confident now. He could do whatever he wanted. It would be all right. I feel good, Fred, said Tom. I feel set for whatever's coming my way. Me too! That's why I want to go back now. I feel irnbibed with persever- ance. Fred furrowed his brow and thought for a moment. Probably, he was too embarrassed to admit that he didn't know what im- bibed or perseverance meant. So he looked down at his un- opened beer bottle and just said, I don't know what you mean. Tom ignored him. Do you have the opener, Tom? Fred was reading the label on the bottle. Yep, here you go. Tom tossed the opener to Fred, who didn't catch it. You know, Tom said, I think I'll try something new. Gim- me the rum over there. Fred burped - he sounded like a frog - then he reached into the bag and took out a pint of rum. He looked at the bottle for a moment, then passed it over. Tom held the bottle in his right hand. It had rounded edges and its neck curved upward delicately. The glass was thick and smooth to the touch. It looks like a Scope bottle, said Fred. with great skill and poise. The beer looked much clearer with rum in it. Well, here goes, he said. He took several large gulps. Then he put the bottle down on the grass. He looked up at the sky, noticing that all the bright stars were out, before calmly leaning over and throwing up in the pond. Gee, I thought it would have been more successful, Fred said. 'Tm truly surprised. He took a sip from the rum bottle, slobbering his mouth on it. Actually, it wasn't that bad, Tom said, wiping his mouth. I Ruth Davis Tom ignored him. Then he said, I think I'll do something I saw Paul Newman do in a movie. He wanted to get drunk quickly. Tom drank half the beer from its bottle, then opened the rum bottle. He had to break the gold paper which was stripped across the cap. When he opened the cap, it popped like a kiss. I I see what you mean,,' Fred said, watching Tom pour rum into the beer bottle. Rum and whisky bear similar traits. It should work. Try not to spill too much. Fred was very pleased. I didn't spill any, said Tom. He had transferred rum from its original bottle to his beer bottle just drank it too fast. But he had lost it, the strange something in his gut. He had lost his solidity and he no longer felt relaxed. He opened another beer, even though he didn't want one. I don't think I'll try it, said Fred. No, you wouldn't appreciate it. Fred did not understand what Tom meant, so he let it slide. They could hear music again. They thought about the girls. Tom thought about the girls. Tom could not finish his beer. So they stood up, leaving the bag and bottles, and walked over to the dance. Neil Mooney

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.3 ij'-.,Y Io hn Bisbee CLAMS I dropped my hands into the blue dish of warm clam juice and snapped shells and made sloshy bathtub noises, letting my hands fall into the soft water like eggs onto cake batter. Someone said it didn't make sense to pollute the clam's water, and knocked the lamp above us as he spoke. I threw a puzzle of clam's necks and clam bellies onto the dish instead. Having finished, I leaned my moist face into the saunalike tub full of hot clams and carefully gathered some into my hands as if they were warm bullets. Shooting them to my plate I knocked the tub so that my face and arms and milk glass were spanked with the hot juice. Someone said my milk would be polluted with the clam's water and it wouldntt make sense to drink it. I slurped the salty water with big fish lips instead. Ticky Kennedy IDEAS Wading in a pool of dreamlike thoughts my mind, careless and carefree churns, spitting up ideas like blue droplets of white water their flourescentness blinding me, starting at me - burning holes like fire in the air. One spare, small drop engulfs me in a prism of light and sets me free bleary-eyed into life, the rays splintering into a mass of tiny fragments. Elizabeth Day Q .1 ' 'lr- ow n U-udp-Abu '-'PQ -fd - qi' .r.U0 ' is ., . rp.:- gs ,ig 3775.57 , .,., , ,ggi W? I .w a'f M2 2 Howard Chaffey