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Full-Text Articles in Arts and Humanities
A Day In The Life Of A Sales Associate, K. Michelle Sellers
A Day In The Life Of A Sales Associate, K. Michelle Sellers
The Tuxedo Archives
That moment you looked like Reese Witherspoon. You walked around, carrying many items in your hands. We went towards that hallway, the mirrors, the hot lights…fluorescent in fact. You kept trying on the outfits…that one in particular. Black slacks and the white button down shirt. What is it when a woman wears a white buttoned down shirt? The necklace you wore to accentuate it made everything flow...
-Story excerpt-
Have You Ever Looked At A Walnut Shell, Matthew E. Davis
Have You Ever Looked At A Walnut Shell, Matthew E. Davis
The Tuxedo Archives
Have you ever looked at a walnut shell… all up close and personal I mean. You get so close your eyes crawl into the grooves until they become gorges and then the rest of your body follows in.
For The Boy Who Broke, Yvonne Bamba
For The Boy Who Broke, Yvonne Bamba
The Tuxedo Archives
You were the boy who broke.
Broke into laughter. Broke into song.
Broke into a smile.
Broke into brokenness.
You had this terrible habit of breaking things, especially people.
Especially yourself.
Excerpt From Jaki's Tale, Kayla K. Etheridge
Excerpt From Jaki's Tale, Kayla K. Etheridge
The Tuxedo Archives
We cooked macaroni and cheese. It was the perfect time to have a girls’ night. Candace loved to stir the block of butter, milk and packaged cheese in the pot once I finished draining it.
“Okay,” she grunted. “It’s done, Mommy.”
She walked over to the sink and washed her hands. I plucked a noodle from the pot and licked the cheese from my fingertips.
“Get the lemonade,” I told her.
I picked up the pot and separated it into three bowls while Candace filled two glasses with lemonade. “Grab some napkins.”
“I got them,” she answered. “Come on. It’s …
Book Review For Caribou, Emily Moran
A Letter To A Future Bridezilla
You Would Do Anything, Kevin Coates
You Would Do Anything, Kevin Coates
The Tuxedo Archives
You are driving on the interstate, and your daughter says, “Look, Mommy! A polar bear!”
You are not so far gone that you think it really can be a polar bear, but you can not in that split second think of much else that it could be.
“A polar bear?” you say, stalling.
“Polar bear, polar bear, what do you hear?” she says.
You remember vaguely that those are the lines of a book you read to her at night. You don’t know what the polar bear hears. What do polar bears hear? You imagine white noise, winds filled with …
The Bone Train, Pamela Livingston
The Bone Train, Pamela Livingston
The Tuxedo Archives
Standing inside the shadow of the dying gum tree, Gadje counted the curses. There must be one for every misshapen god Ashtong’s coffins had offended and the train of coffins was long. Very long.
Brittle bone prayers swayed, clicking in the crisp breeze that broke through the branches of gum forest everywhere but where Gadje stood. He only had to toss some bone dust into the wind and mumble his request to make the wind god understand, they had worked around each other for many years. Crushing the shards of broken prayers in his palm, Gadje refilled the stiff gator …
Seven Taverns To The Schoolhouse, Ellen Six
Seven Taverns To The Schoolhouse, Ellen Six
The Tuxedo Archives
The day that I was born my parents looked at me and said, “You will go to college,” a noble ambition to fulfill when you are only two hours old. To both of my parents, who had emigrated from Lithuania, education was the magic key that would free me from the life that they had to live.
Mother had received only three years of schooling. She was third daughter in a family that would have twelve children; six would live and six would die. She learned to read and write but that was enough for a girl who was needed …
One Page Sentence, Kevin Coates
One Page Sentence, Kevin Coates
The Tuxedo Archives
I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, and by easy I mean a piece of cake, a cake walk, even though the one time I had actually tried to make a cake from scratch, it was not all that easy – in fact, it was one of the hardest things I did during my four years in college – making an orange sponge cake that baked into a hideous color, a color like the left over snack bags in the dollar aisle at Wal-Mart after Halloween, when all of the candy is fake fruit shapes and all of the …
Old Woman, Erina Lynch
Old Woman, Erina Lynch
The Tuxedo Archives
She sits across from me in all her purpleness. Same table, same drinks on the table. Each and every day the same. Three drinks each day at 11:45A.M. – one venti caramel frappucino, one venti mocha with whip and one grande iced coffee. She isstrange. The drinks, ordered together, sit on the table slowly being sucked dry as the old woman holds court at her two-seater, window, table for hours. She is strange, arriving at the local McDonald’s version of a coffeehouse referred to as Starbucks on her purple beach cruiser bicycle that is seriously tricked out in some sort …
Digressing, Kylie Walsh
Digressing, Kylie Walsh
The Tuxedo Archives
James sat up when Death knocked on the door. He was there to collect James the way children collect laughter. James opened the door; he was not very bright with things like this.
When he was younger his sister smashed a vase over his head after his provokings grew into gaping creatures. After numerous X-rays and MRIs the doctors told them all, “We looked at his head, there’s nothing there.”
Much amusement among the brothers and sisters at this. He could do Calculus problems in his head and tell you about wars that your great-great-great-grandparents fought in when they lived …
Dandelion, Jane Muir Greene
Dandelion, Jane Muir Greene
The Tuxedo Archives
The old man was hunched over his walker on the garden path, having a tug of war with the wheels of his walker and the pea gravel that barely delineated the pathways in the overgrown, weed strewn expanse of planting beds that hinted of a former hey-day. He was a short man whose middle had increased with every decade, now giving him an egg shaped profile, a ridiculous outline for such a dignified person, dressed in a three-piece suit with a white carnation in his button-hole, a uniform he had worn every day since he first started at the law …
Things My Father Taught Me, Casey Waits
Things My Father Taught Me, Casey Waits
The Tuxedo Archives
They say every man grows up to be his father. I’m pretty sure they say the same thing about women too. They also say how life is all about the little things. The devil is in the details and what have you; body language, facial expressions, clothing, ticks, mannerisms, habits, speech patterns, sayings, tones, opinions, and patterns. These are what make up a person. These are what make up me. I learned them from my dad.
Futile Attempts, Melissa Graveson
Futile Attempts, Melissa Graveson
The Tuxedo Archives
I don’t know why I remember waking up one morning, and getting ready to go to the mall when I was five years old. The morning started just as so many others had. I crawled out of my bed, reluctant to leave the warmth, and comfort, it provided. Soon after I made it over to the dresser, where I found an outfit to wear. The shirt and pants I put on were indicative of a child’s wardrobe. These items were not unique, or original, by any means. Having put on traditional children’s clothes I then moved onto adorning myself with …
8 Weeks, Aiyana Beck
8 Weeks, Aiyana Beck
The Tuxedo Archives
I get to his office tired. My prefect dark ringlet curls dripping wet from the rain. I start to his office not paying attention to the fact that his secretary is trying to stop me.
“Miss Brown,” his secretary is saying, “he is on a conference call right now. If you wait I can let him know you are here.”
“I don’t have time to wait David.”
“Miss Brown,” he shouts at me, but I am already at the door to Joe’s office.
As I walk in, I swallow hard.
“So we are going to build this building in stages,” …
How I Came To Dominican, Lisa Wagenhurst
How I Came To Dominican, Lisa Wagenhurst
The Tuxedo Archives
I remember like it was yesterday. It was late on a hot Friday afternoon in mid-
August and the sun was shining with the fierceness that August is notorious for, even in Northern California. Everywhere I looked there were trees and flowers and beautiful lawns. ~excerpt from short story
The Frog Pond, Valerie Silver
The Frog Pond, Valerie Silver
The Tuxedo Archives
Each January, the frog pond calls to me. I drive across town to the Discovery
Center parking lot, put on my mud shoes, breathe in the damp, leafy air, and step away from my everyday world. ~excerpt from short story
Sonoma County, Jim Metzger
Sonoma County, Jim Metzger
The Tuxedo Archives
“It’s coming, a calmness of thought. It has to be.” These were often Tom’s words and most certainly always his thoughts. “The critical mass of media cannot sustain its frequency.” So for that we will be grateful, and for Tom’s final wishes, I am grateful too. ~excerpt from prose
Just Dial Zero (Excerpt), Megan Lynn
Just Dial Zero (Excerpt), Megan Lynn
The Tuxedo Archives
Welcome to Paradise.
The scent of stale booze, fresh urine and dejection washed over her as she opened the glass door with a crack carefully patched by a duct tape diagonal slash. A small bell jingled above her head. She wondered where anyone would go. ~excerpt from prose
Paris, Cooper Scollan
Paris, Cooper Scollan
The Tuxedo Archives
Oh to be in Paris. Paris, just like the movies. Just like the image. Just like the romance. It is as beautiful as one could conceive, and as inspiring as one wants it to be. As you visit the sites, eat the food, and try to become a part of this breathtaking city, you are left in a state of constant emotional tickle. But to be in Paris, you must try to act like a Parisian. Not a tourist. ~excerpt from prose
The Seven Forgotten Modern Wonders Of The World, Amy Fagan
The Seven Forgotten Modern Wonders Of The World, Amy Fagan
The Tuxedo Archives
The Gateway Arch is the “gateway” to Saint Louis, Missouri. The Arch is a feature of the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial Park, and standing at 630 ft., is the nation’s tallest memorial. The stainless steel structure took four years to construct and was dedicated in 1966. Now, millions of visitors take a tram from one leg of the Arch to the top to get a glimpse of bustling St. Louis. ~excerpt from prose
A Cautionary Tale: Exploring Myths On Dominican Sponsored Trip To China, Alexis Mcbride
A Cautionary Tale: Exploring Myths On Dominican Sponsored Trip To China, Alexis Mcbride
The Tuxedo Archives
I am submitting this cautionary tale to the wary traveler. Be prepared for some surprises and be open for new ideas.
These are a few things I learned:
1) There is no such thing as an easy credit.
I admit that it was naive to expect easy credits. I should have predicted extensive reading for class preparation, a trip journal that would swallow two weeks of my life and a fourteen page paper that would entail hours of research and writing. ~excerpt from prose
Testimonies From Ireland, Brianna Youmans, Katie Ross, Denise Cetti
Testimonies From Ireland, Brianna Youmans, Katie Ross, Denise Cetti
The Tuxedo Archives
This summer, nine of Dominican University’s students involved in B.A.S.I.C., traveled to Northern Ireland where they worked with children and young adults, encouraging them to become “leaders of peace and hope.” ~excerpt from prose
View From A Hill, Jennifer Curtin
View From A Hill, Jennifer Curtin
The Tuxedo Archives
My mother and I drive up Parnassus Avenue in the hills of San Francisco. Listening to our iPod, I sing along to “Gold Dust Woman” by Fleetwood Mac. Usually, my mother would join me, especially since this song is one of our favorites, but she seems ashamed of her weakening voice. The pulsating rhythm of the song enhances the nervous tension as we charge up the Victorian-lined incline. ~excerpt from prose
Not Far From Home, Serianna Pearson
Not Far From Home, Serianna Pearson
The Tuxedo Archives
I flew out of the San Francisco International Airport with a group of essential strangers to travel out of the country for the first time. After a bumpy ride fully-equipped with a lightning storm, we landed in Quito, Ecuador. I highly anticipated this trip, collecting handouts and attending group meetings, but I was somewhat confused when, standing in the customs line, I saw two pictures: one of San Francisco and one of Quito, with a slogan basically saying “Quito, the sister-city of San Francisco.” Apparently, I hadn’t traveled as far from home as I thought. ~excerpt from prose
Find Yourself By Looking In A New Place, Christopher Leeds
Find Yourself By Looking In A New Place, Christopher Leeds
The Tuxedo Archives
Making the choice to leave a very successful, established life in the corporate world and enter academia was an easy one for me. The opportunity to help students find some direction, to find a path to start their lives or change already established ones, was irresistible. ~excerpt from prose
Churros, Julia Van Der Ryn
Churros, Julia Van Der Ryn
The Tuxedo Archives
We are here in the middle of a country. At night I anchor myself to my husband as if we were surrounded by water instead of a flat, dry plane of land. I hook my foot around his ankle and breathe in dust and the smell of other people's kitchens. Frying foods fuel my dreams. ~excerpt from prose
A Mexican In Metropolis: Pensées Of A Summer Among Parisians, Carlos Rodriguez
A Mexican In Metropolis: Pensées Of A Summer Among Parisians, Carlos Rodriguez
The Tuxedo Archives
Aeroports Charles de Gaulle
How to get there from here. From San Rafael, take the airporter at the Transit Center. Get to SFO. And then take a plane to France. Fly into the night. Arrive the next day.~excerpt from prose
Sleeping Ladies, Rachele Ketchem
Sleeping Ladies, Rachele Ketchem
The Tuxedo Archives
Out of nowhere a man jumped out of the bushes on the trail a little ahead of us. He was balding, tall, a 40 something year-old with spooky eyes. Christine knew damn well Kim and I were scaredy cats and began to quote a favorite old horror movie of ours,
“Barbara! He is coming to get you Barbara!”At that point, Kim and I were giving her the shut-the-fuck-up look as this creepy guy wearing camouflage in the dark was walking towards us. ~excerpt from prose