Housatonic Community College - Stentorian Yearbook (Bridgeport, CT)

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Linda Strickland John Sullivan Virginia Supinski David Surks Darryl Svanda Alex Theriaulf Shirley Symski Jacquiline Thomas Betlye Sullivan Patricia Sulay Henry Tashiian Marcia Thomas

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A WALK ON A NONEDAY AFTERNOON Have you ever taken a walk on a noneday afternoon? What's that you say, you haven'tI Well, what are you waiting for, the end of the world? Good heavens, man, that will be here before you know it, and do you want to look back and think that you've wasted your damn stinking life iust because you've never been for a walk on noneday? look, iust don't worry what it's like, l'm sure that you'll really blow your mind when we get there. What do you have to bring? Just your brains, baby, iust your brains! You'd better hurry if you don't want to miss the train, it's going to be leav- ing in iust a few minutes. Where do we have to go to catch the train? Why, at the end of yesterday, of course! Well, here's our transportation to Endsville, just hop aboard and let's start groovin' ............ groovin'............ Suddenly there came over us a terrible urge to sleep, and all around us there were shades of black-a black so deep that it seemed to swallow up all the light that was. And with the black came a silence-a silence so heavy that I could not hear my breathing or my heart beat . . . or my heart beat . . . or my heart beat. Then, as if it had never happened, everything stopped, and we were look- ing out the window of the train at a small town, or what appeared to be a town. Little did we realize that this was the beginning of a great nightmare. Stepping onto the platform, we found ourselves surrounded by a blanket of fog so thick that it made walking almost impossible. We had hardly walked ten feet when a ghastly-looking old wom- an approached us, screaming at the top of her deteriorated old lungs Two minutes of tomorrow 'til noneday afternoon ...... two, two, iust two, everybody be ready! My heart turned over in my mouth as I wondered why we had to be ready. But what did we have to fear-who gives a damn about some screwy old nut? Before I could ask her why we had to be ready, she disappeared into the veil of mist. The image of her deep-set eyes still remained in my mind, and for a second my blood ran cold. We continued our walk toward the town when from nowhere a voice announced that it was now afternoon, and in the twinkling of an eye the quiet, pastoral scene was changed into a bustling metropolis. The change took place so quickly that it was hard for the mind to comprehend what was going on. lt was as if we had iust passed from one time zone into another. Our pace of walking was still slow, almost unreally slow, and the thought crossed my mind that everything around us was in slow motion. As we approached the street corner, the vision of a man came into view. He seemed as normal a man as I, except for the fact that ...... that . . . he had no eyes. Sir! , I blurted out, in a very nervous voice, May I ask where we are? His head turned slightly toward me, and with a very grotesque expression on his face-a look that seemed to go right through me-he answered, Man, can't you see that I ain't got no eyes, how the hell do you expect me to know where you are! , and he turned abruptly and walked away. I was completely stunned, to say the least. We continued our venture down the street of this never-never land, not knowing what to expect at the next turn. Cars passed us on the street, and we received glares from all of the horribly dis- torted occupants of the vehicles. Suddenly two old women approached us and, without a word, began to pluck at us and to feel us as if we were some type of vegetable. They nodded in agreement that we seemed ripe, and started to pull us along with them. Was this part of taking a walk on none- day ? We shook ourselves free from the pair and began to run. But why were we running-we had nothing to fear from two old ladies. Something inside us, however, told our minds that we must escape. Every step we took led us farther away from them, yet as I looked over my shoulder I noticed that we had not gone more than ten feet from the original spot where we had first en- countered them. And, as I looked at my sleeve where one of the old women was pulling at me, her clenched hand still remained and I noted with horror that it was dripping with blood. I could not believe what I saw, but one glance back at her confirmed my suspicion. Her arm was a bloody stump! But how did it happen, I asked myself. As I ran, I tried to go over in my mind the scene that had iust taken place, but nothing came back to me. Again I looked back over my shoulder but, to my amazement, everything had changed. We stopped our efforts to run, they had taken us no place anyhow. We now were looking at what seemed to be some sort of a beautiful park. People were walking around, talking, enioying themselves. Children were playing games nearby. I thought that everything was iust as real as I myself was, when from out of nowhere I heard a voice speaking to me. I looked around to see who was addressing me and, glancing down, I noticed that I was being accosted by a petunia. The shrill screams coming from the plant were nearly breaking my eardrums, until I remedied the situation by stepping on the idiotic plant. Blood gushed forth from the broken stem, and then I noticed that everyone in the park was charging at us like a heard of wild boars. Again we began to run-we lust had to escape from this nightmare! Quickly we ran for the train station. The sky above us was turning black, and I could again feel the choking, stifling mist. I turned around to take one last look at the town-but it was not there. All that remained was a blur of nothing! John Jezierney

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John Tibor H. James Tuttle Gene Urbinati John Usdavin Jeanne Valko Bill Valko Claudia Vargas Joanne Vartelas FEW, FEWER . . . NONE John Bulson Faceless people stare intently in futility, Spineless people hasten to avoid responsibility, Moral-less people have no idea of chastity, And a few hold truth, courage, and virtue. Know-nothings would impress with a front, Feel-nothings fake response with a grunt, Give-nothings take, leaving others the brunt, And a few hold knowledge, feeling, and honesty. Heartless people do nothing but mock, Careless people do not watch the clock, Breathless people, prepare for a shock, For very few hold love, concern, and the breath of life. Eric Villano Richard Wadeka John Wagner Gordon Wahl