Arts
I awoke in darkness, the only sensation a cold metal bar that pressed into my ribcage, effectively sapping any warmth from my body. Groggily, I tried to sit up and grimaced, my head pounding like a drumbeat. Overwhelmed with pain, I lurched sideways and vomited onto the floor, my torso heaving with spasms
Read MoreTaylor Seamount is an artist currently residing in the Capitol Hill area.
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Photography by Lake Lewis.
Read MoreI stumbled backwards, blinded by the glare after spending so long in darkness. Cautiously, I opened my eyes a sliver and peered through the doorway into what looked to be a laboratory of some sort. Stepping towards the empty room, I heard the crunch of glass underfoot as the fluorescent lighting cast a diamond-like sparkle on the powdered beakers beneath my boots.
Read MoreAs soon as my skin contacted the latch, a grinding noise began to emanate from the hard concrete floor. Jerking my head from left to right, I had roughly half a second’s premonition of where the sound was coming from before the ground beneath me swung inward, launching my naked, unprotected body down a chute.
Read MoreI stood there upon the concrete, my feet frozen to the unforgiving ground like tree roots frosted in the winter dawn. Those two words, “thank you,” coiled repeatedly about my thoughts, invading each separate one until the sound was like a drumbeat in my head.
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The poetry slam represented the SAAS community in a way that no single poem could. Twenty-six students competed against each other, facing a panel of judges consisting of students and faculty.
Read MoreStill reeling in disbelief, I felt my limbs freeze up and lock into position, physically unable to move away from the small glass window presenting my impossible twin.
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This is the first installment of a series called "Doppelganger."
I awoke on a cold slab of metal. At least, the texture of it led me to conclude as much. At first, my eyelids appeared to be sewn shut, each lash trembling like a shivering child as my pupils struggled to soak in the dim blue lights. After much trepidation and effort, I finally succeeded in prying apart the iron hinges that had become my eyes, yet the sight awaiting them was less believable than the darkness of my long repose. Blinking, I timidly moved my left toes, sighing in both relief and pain as an unbridled wave of tingling bathed my foot. I spent the next couple minutes gingerly awakening each appendage in turn, until soon, all that remained was my head and torso.
Slowly, I sat up, pleasantly surprised when the accompanying dizziness was significantly less than expected. As I cautiously placed my legs on the edge of my artificial bed, I was chagrined to discover my body was bare of any clothing, a dilemma rendering escape to be an even more challenging task. I glanced around the room quickly, praying for a sheet, but my stationary search was to no avail.
Accepting my fate of nudity, I dropped unceremoniously off the metal slab and onto my weakened feet, sending ripples of pain like anguished shrieks throughout my ankles. Lurching with the gait of one who has drunk too much, I slowly stumbled my way in the direction of what appeared to be a door, and pressed my face to the icy glass window facing the hallway.
Almost instantly I drew back in shock, before scrutinizing once more the scene presented to me through the door. Standing directly in my line of vision was a girl, about five feet tall, red hair and blue eyes, wearing a purple sweater and soft jeans. This apparition itself would have been odd enough so near to what I suspected was some sort of prison cell or laboratory, yet this itself was minor compared to the one glaring impossibility in the girl’s appearance. In proportion, stature, and mannerisms, this girl was without a doubt, me.
