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Quetzal 2020 | University of Waterloo’s Online Arts Magazine2021-03-06T22:59:37-05:00

Photography

Poetry & Prose

“a curse of good memory” by Raquel Paredes

a curse of good memory Raquel Paredes Published Winter 2021 i have to say, the unfortunate thing about having a good memory is that i cannot simply forget while this does well for the tests and the speeches, it also means i cannot simply forget everything [...]

“Outro: In a Sunroom, Elora” By Matthew Mina

Outro: In a Sunroom, Elora Matthew Mina Published Winter 2021 Your office has this neat sunroom which you sometimes guide your clients into. If scheduled at the right time of day the sun cascades over a maze of vibrant and varied foliage. A hearty Oxalis on [...]

“Cycles.” By Jacob Neal

Cycles. Jacob Neal Published Winter 2021 An Acorn. Mistakes attributed to inefficacy, Rather than inadequacy.   Soil. Those fertile grounds, In which contempt is sown.   A Sprout. The separate events, Spliced into a jigsaw of blame.   A Sapling. Condescension, Towards the un-accusers.   An Oak. [...]

“Raison d’Être” By Ishita Ananth Krishnan

Raison d'Être Ishita Ananth Krishnan Published Winter 2021 I write to save my soul, To breathe the air of ink and crisp paper, Rather than the fumes of an ambiguous tomorrow, To bring letters into existence on a screen, Rather than tasting the greed that seeps [...]

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Visual Arts

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Short Stories

One Dance

One Dance She’s fucking Alexander, Theo reminded himself. He was standing by the bar, waiting to order a rye and coke. His gaze was directed towards the dance floor where he spotted Lily and Emma in the crowd. The rest of the crew seemed to have disappeared into the pulsing array of flesh, the other guys each on their own personal mission to get some. Usually, Theo would be on his own personal mission to get some, but whenever Lily came out with them, he couldn’t help but not care. For some reason, he just wanted to be around her. He didn’t want to think about it too deeply beyond that and he made sure to remind himself every now and then that she was sleeping with one of his closest friends. Theo finally inched his way to the front of the line. The busty bartender gave him a sultry smile and asked, “What can I get for you, sweetie?” “I’ll have a shot of whiskey and rye and coke...make it a double,” Theo replied. She punched in his order on the register. She poured the shot of whiskey and handed it to him. He took the shot [...]

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 [...]

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 [...]

New Beginnings

 New Beginnings by Edward Liu It was a troubling time. Seventeen years into life; too many left until the end of my days. “Too many indeed.” What was that voice? “It’s me! You’ve known me for awhile now.” What were those thoughts I didn’t want circulating through my head? “I have feelings too, you know?” What were those disheartening memories? “She only broke up with you a few months ago! You couldn’t have already forgotten.” I hadn’t forgotten, but I had tried to. “I miss her.” I missed her too, but I could not afford to miss her. I could not afford to think about her any longer. “That’s impossible. We will practically see her everyday. With him.” It didn’t matter. I had to work my way around it. I willed myself to, “Yeah, okay. Good luck with that.” I had to somehow make it through my final year of high school with two unwanted parties tagging along with me, holding me back. It was a difficult task, and I attempted to accomplish it through willpower alone for a small while. “You tried your best for two months. It just wasn’t meant to be.” Two months was approximately [...]

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 [...]

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 [...]

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