Loading...
Quetzal 2020 | University of Waterloo’s Online Arts Magazine2020-07-15T15:02:06-04:00

Photography

Load More Posts

Poetry & Prose

“A Place Where I Belong” by Shruti Bagmar

I fail to understand every time I am here  Why am I so lost and empty So tangled in this space around me I want to let go of this I beg someone, please let me free.   Home is where you feel warm Surrounded by someone you can count [...]

Wuv

Wuv (Love∞) by Varun Batta The constant exchange of messages, An endless list of “To:” and “From:” Only one name can fill that place And allow a rush of emotions to come You always lead to complete excitement I get eager to see what next you [...]

A series of limericks by Holden Little

A series of limericks By Holden Little A Confined Aquifer I live far below underground By clay or by slate I am bound Water fills up a band Made gravel and sand At least that’s what I have ‘til I’m found Geologic Time From the Hadean and [...]

Epitaph to Empire

Epitaph to Empire by Stuart Ian Little Black waves caress grey sand While stranded Roman arches stand aloof, Declaring histories of ‘us’ and ‘them’; An empire’s glory cast  Among the pebbles, by the black-glass sea.

Load More Posts

Visual Arts

Load More Posts

Short Stories

“Plucked” by Aniqah Beharry

Plucked by Aniqah Beharry “Is it really that bad?” Is it? Media doesn’t hesitate to portray the violent plucking of petals from flowers,  The poor unsuspecting flowers, no matter their brightness or scents, Any species can be picked from the stems from which they were so once comfortably, naïvely swinging in the breeze. Everyone loves flowers, different kinds for different reasons,  Some feel entitled to flowers but don’t understand that these flowers grew on their own and aren’t theirs to take.  From a little girl to years later, when I’m now a university student, they all still argue.  I’ve grown up in a society that blames flowers for being picked because they’re too pretty, because they were in a place they shouldn’t have been, because they were too bright, because they did this and that and this and that and this and that.  A lot of people ridicule and hold the flower culpable for what happens to them.  But I’d never heard this one before, “Is it really that bad?” Is it really that bad?  Is it really that bad? Is it really that bad? Is it? Is it bad? Is it fair? Is it unfair? When [...]

Understand Me

Understand Me By Eunice Adubea Owusu Amoah Was he dead? Or was he alive? His skin felt warm and flushed all over. Was he dying? Or was he still in love? Something warm and sticky was in his hand. Blood. His? Hers? A face appeared before him. Someone screaming his name. Or maybe just screaming. Screeches of fear. Or pain. Or surprise. Was it her? Was she beside him? Screaming for him to stay alive? Or screaming at him to just die? He didn’t deserve to die, he thought. She was the one who broke him. He thought of the day they met. “Boo,” she whispered. He quickly spun around to face her. His chin brushed against her short, wet, spiky hair. He looked down at her and she looked up at him. Two complete strangers who had fatefully met in a cemetery on a rainy night.   There was an ambulance. His thoughts begged for the siren to be shut. He was trying to remember. What had she been wearing? Had she smiled? No. She’d laughed though. Yes she’d- The siren. The stupid siren. Too fucking loud. She’d laughed. He’d stared at her in that beautiful [...]

My Hands

My Hands by Emerald Naylor He could hear the murmur of voices on the other side of the wall. There must have been hundreds- no thousands- of people waiting for him. He rolled his shoulders back and tried not to think of the crowd. Priscilla was still standing in the doorway behind him. She glared at his back. “I can’t believe you- doing this again.” Her voice was steady, but he could tell she was trying hard not to shout. He turned around to face her. “I’ve told you, I have to do this. This is who I am; I’m their hero.” He started to turn back towards the arena when something in the shadows caught his eye. “For gods sake! Stop being the damn hero!” She was yelling now. She sounded exasperated. He took a step towards the shadows. “You don’t have to be their hero. Come home with me; be mine. Be my hero,” She whimpered. “Priscilla, shush.” He narrowed his eyes. There was something there, right in front of him. “Lionel,” He stepped closer. He could make out the outline of the figure through the darkness. There was something in its hands. The shadowy figure [...]

“The Time Twister” by Suhana Kumar

The Time Twister Suhana Kumar Published Spring 2020 ` Sarajevo, 1914 The air was smokey, clusters of particles floating through as if time had stopped. Maybe, in a way, time did stop, and it was as if the streets of Sarajevo knew something was going to happen. Or, as they say, the calm before the storm. He woke up at precisely 6:30, and dragged himself out of bed to dress. He had to look his best, today was the big day. He grabbed the letters that piled on the broken side-table and shoved them into his coat pocket, and finally, retrieved a gun from his closet and putting it in his inside coat pocket. The boy looked into the dirty mirror at his shorn hair as he covered his demons with a cap. What did I get myself into? But you promised me. So why does it feel wrong? His long, unkempt bangs fluttered in his face as he tugged on his cap, stepping out into the streets. He doesn’t know why he was feeling so self-conscious, living in Sarajevo meant that you were a nobody. A nobody… It took him 15 minutes to reach [...]

It Started with a Whisper

It Started with a Whisper by Edward Liu Why are you still alive?” I remained silent. “You didn’t jump that day. Why didn’t you jump?” “Because I was afraid of not dying,” I said. “You didn't choose a tall enough building.” “There's always a slim chance of survival. How would I jump again if I somehow survived with every bone in my body shattered? Repeating the task would be near impossible,” I said, but that wasn't all there was to it. Thinking about suicide is simple. Initiating the act was a whole other story. At least for me. Why was I still alive? I wondered that myself. It was almost a year since the lowest point of my life. What had I accomplished since then? ■ ■ ■ It started with a whisper almost four years ago, a small voice in the back of my head. “This is bad,” it said softly as I stared at my score on the math test I had just been handed. “I’ll make up for it,” I said. Mathematics was my best subject growing up. I liked math. It was the only thing which I felt like I excelled in. My [...]

A Spoken Word

A Spoken Word by Muhammad Zaid Bin Amer Hey My name is Muhammad Zaid Bin Amer. You may have heard of me And to be quite frank I’m not always 100% sure I’m spelling Muhammad right. Is it M u, M o, I don't know- it's confusing. I was born on June 21st 1999, in some ghetto army base within Peshawar, a small city in Pakistan. This is widely been regarded as a terrible idea Now see the reason I wasn’t born in a regular hospital is that we were on the way to the airport, leaving Pakistan as refugees because of some bad business my parents have never went into because they just love keeping secrets This just goes to show, people wanted me dead even before I was born I’m often terrible at staying quiet, being loud and shattering the solid silence, I mean what can I say I was born sleeping and have been messed up ever since I like coca-cola Alot I go to The University of Waterloo I’m in first year and I still don't have my drivers license And for as long as I can remember I’ve loved cheap food... and bad [...]

Load More Posts