Bookmark this page if you'd like to keep track of what I'm working on.
Worked on 58 assignments, created 26, named on 33 bylines for The Montclarion.
By Olivia Yayla (Olivia as desk editor) + 3 others for The Montclarion - 9 min read
Lower The Window
Officer Pleakly studied Salvatore Feragucci’s face as if a midterm followed the interrogation. He searched for a glimpse, a sliver, a single grain of emotion that contradicted the clear revulsion and remorse smeared across Salvatore’s face. But Officer Pleakly found nothing but despair in the eyes of the suspect; in the eyes of the husband whose pupils bore bullet holes...
By Olivia Yayla (Olivia as desk editor) + 4 others for The Montclarion - 10 min read
Double Sided
“Man, I look good today,” I said as I stared at my mirror. It's crazy how fast it took me to get ready. My curly hair tends to be a problem, along with my faded tattoo. “Eddie, stop staring at yourself in the mirror and get downstairs to eat your breakfast!” she yelled.“Oh, my bad, Ma. Coming!” I answered.“You have...
By Olivia Yayla (Olivia as desk editor) + 3 others for The Montclarion - 9 min read
The Night Shift
“Have you ever seen the Devil?”Nima paused mid-chai sip, returning the teacup to its dainty saucer. With her pointer finger and thumb trained on the cup’s waist, her middle and ring finger choking an ashy joint, and her pinky delicately curved upward as if she were dining with the queen, her eyes found Carmen’s. Though Carmen’s eyes were searching elsewhere,...
By Alex Pavljuk (Olivia as desk editor) + 4 others for The Montclarion - 8 min read
Memories That Haven’t Been Made
Otis rolled over. He had awoken to the sound of a wailing siren in the near distance, maybe four or five streets away from his room on the second floor of a hotel on the corner of Rue Regnard and Rue Rotrou. The Place de l’Odeon was a small square which hosted a seemingly never at capacity theater, an approachable...
By Olivia Yayla (Olivia as desk editor) + 3 others for The Montclarion - 4 min read
Ontonic
I’ve come to hate the sunrise on this planet. Never mind the electric purple fractures in the horizon which beckon the arrival of Ontonic’s infamous lilac thunderclouds, which lug their deep purple pillowcases of sweet summer showers for the wildlife to bathe in. Shortly after, the sun warms the planet with a pink sheen of fog, settling upon the technologically...
By Kiara Oelkers (Olivia as desk editor) + 4 others for The Montclarion - 1 min read
"In Between It All"
You swarm my senses as ifI nestled the wrong hive. And yet I choose to witness the Stings colliding my heart and mind Into one. As if all the zeros and onesCanceled out into X equalsEcstasy. Or if my bowl of Galactic Lucky Charms isThe Milky Way for someoneIn between the atoms, thePart of life we will know Nothing about....
By Anexis Matos (Olivia as desk editor) + 4 others for The Montclarion - 3 min read
A Priestess So Clever and Kind
There once was a princess,so clever and kindborn to a kingdomwhere hearts were left behind. Her world was cold,so dark and bleak. She was always silent,for she could not speak. Magic paid a visiton stormy skies of gray. They saw her potentialand chose to stay. A gift she was given,one with no strings,but visions followed,forming dark rings. In silence she...
By Olivia Yayla + 4 others for The Montclarion - 5 min read
"Our Kind Of Cruelty" Will Have You Reading Through The Night
As of recently, there has only been one thing on my mind. You. Not you, the reader of this book review, but Netflix’s original series starring notorious sociopath and loverboy lady killer Joe Goldberg, "You". Maybe it was the way he spoke about Beck before he realized that she was just as human and imperfect as the women of his...
By Rosemary Rodriguez (Olivia as desk editor) + 4 others for The Montclarion - 1 min read
See You In My Nightmares
I’ll mourn you -as if You had died I’ll mold this Plasticine soul Of mineAnd silence That singing snake That was nothing but a stain On my legacy I’d ask you to Control your venom But how I loved Cradling That mouth That tongue I might have adored youFor a bit But you didn’t let me Show you God So...
By Anexis Matos (Olivia as desk editor) + 4 others for The Montclarion - 1 min read
Nostalgia
Nostalgiais an old friend. Sometimes,it's known to you. Other times,it's a stranger,but you just know it. A song. A vibe. It doesn't matter. Even as a stranger,you know itwhen you see it. Nostalgiais the friend you reach out towhen nothing is working out. It comforts you. Distracts you. Gives youa moment of rest. A moment of peace. Nostalgiais sometimes hated,but...
