Fairfield High School - Talon Yearbook (Fairfield, CA)

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A f- 'T , jzf::f:s3g'o:v'f 2 ' , K' 3 I f . Q...- Stacherine suspiciously assumes another desk in another room and produces instruments to construct an idea. Before him on neatly lined paper rests a pen. He grasps the slender cylinder. E xpertl y he rolls it over a pattern of callouses that have grown from years of contact with its plastic skin. He unscrews the top with a surgeon's skill and unsurprisingly finds the inner tube. Cautiously, he removes the golden spring from its molden holder, and lays the fully dissected creature before him. l ts mangled body rolls independently in pieces around the table. Stacherine rescrews it- unscrews it- unscrews it until an illusive thought flows concre tel y in his mind. The pen checks over the thought with a consumers apprehension. Then with a gluttonous appetite, it lashes out and secures a hearty bite. l t digests the nourishing portion and excretes it in fluid upon the paper. Stacherine looks at the humbled thought-bit off chewed up, spit out, and wonders if the scribbled jarblings could ever seem like words again. A .Q M 1 CV 5: 3, i 2 fi ii J .14 1 T I .

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The children burst from their cages, and in a rush for survival coagulate around the open window. Stacherine stands with silver coins ready in his hand. More and more of the famined hoard cram against the others-pushing towards the providing hole for the relief of starvation. Stacherine breathes heavily as their eyes burn with the madness of an adolescent mob. They crush harder and harder as Stacherine struggles to remain calm, but their bodies, richly perfumed with antagonized sweat presss closer and closer-filling every space with compressed, abhorrent flesh. They are undernourished and stretch out begging for their supper. Requests from behind float through the thick air pleading with the mobbers in front to share in their fortune. Anxiety burns holes in the patience of Stacherine. His body flexes pushing the leeching children further into the hoard. His feet stand solid on the stone ground, as he prepares to strike the burning stroke, but his courage, like a summer's cloud, bursts and sends a flood of logic to drown his attack. Stacherine wedges himself from the mob. He turns and beaueaths to them a defeated stare. But the thought of flame retreats unwillingly to the darkness of his mind. l t lingers there in hiding, waiting to transform the school, like a match transforms a forest. ' i .,X. . x .1 .., .. - . 12