esprit - Academic Scranton - The University of Scranton

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harmless, playful incentive to encourage good behavior from the students. In retrospect, however, he should have anticipated the possible dismal consequences of doing so in a highly-rated suburban elementary school in which parents called frequently to request signed affidavits confirming the precise dates of their children’s tenure as ruler for the purposes of assured matriculation to the first grade. A grab for power had surely been inevitable. Though he had landed facing away from the classroom, he heard students begin to awake and chatter as they realized that something odd had unraveled as they slept. He heard Max begin to direct children around, and as he turned his head to face the classroom he saw what appeared to be a reenactment of the Defenestration of Prague, featuring the class gerbil. “Kiss your chores goodbye!” roared Max as a group of three children hoisted the cage above their heads and out the (mercifully) ground floor window. Max perused the growing chaos, and with a powerful “Classmates!” he brought the room to order. “Today we start over. Today we change the history of the Wilson Danforth PM kindergarten program for gifted students. We’ve napped for far too long! Raise your grape juice boxes and join me in a toast to this moment and all it will mean to kindergartners across the world.” *** Maybe he just hated being out because he hated failing. Or maybe because he hated not knowing. Or maybe because it reminded him of how little control he had over what he wanted. It all just seemed so inane. It seemed to put him on par with all that he despised. All that he saw as simple and irrational and unworthy of his time. And yet it consumed so much of him. He had tried to shake it all since getting home. Hell, he had been trying to shake it all from the start. His temperament and memory had always, or so he thought, registered their interactions as insignificant. And yet, the nights like these that consumed his interest, that consumed his focus, seemed to reveal that those initial assessments, or his memory of them, had been inaccurate. The tingle of what shouldn’t be. It demonstrated time and again its hold on him. He despised the fact that it wasn’t utterly distasteful to him. 32
He searched himself for motives, for misunderstandings. He wanted to find the source and extinguish it. He finished his work and headed to bed. He tried to sleep soundly, content in the hope that tomorrow might be back to normal. 33
Page 1: esprit spring 2010
Page 4 and 5: Spring 2010 Awards The Berrier Poet
Page 6 and 7: A Cautionary Tale Eric Pencek Jake
Page 8 and 9: the pall of silence that surrounded
Page 10 and 11: me. “Well, sure, he was a person,
Page 12 and 13: 10 Jenn Dice
Page 14 and 15: into memory, but I am busy with dom
Page 16 and 17: The main feature reads “Gaga At T
Page 18 and 19: eyed toddler. A man in a three-piec
Page 20 and 21: Bun in the Oven Meghan Norsigian
Page 22 and 23: Sailing, 1911 Edward Hopper (1882-1
Page 24 and 25: Apartment Houses, 1923 Edward Hoppe
Page 26 and 27: passages that would capture her att
Page 28 and 29: go to see a friend in a play or go
Page 30 and 31: Good night, my darling J. Carlo Gor
Page 32 and 33: and they—because they are all thi
Page 36 and 37: And so on Patrick Morris the couche
Page 38 and 39: orange still left on the plate next
Page 40 and 41: Wars and Daughters Shawna Hogan Bec
Page 42 and 43: 40 Gina Fullam
Page 44 and 45: with the girl. Maybe I’m too cons
Page 46 and 47: Esprit Submission Information Espri

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