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Illustration by Zihao Lin


 When my foot falls asleep I recall that 
the body won’t evince itself or mist 
its limbs with feeling more often, only 
when it needs to tell me to get up and 
move along. Last night a spindly old man 
told me about the etymology 
of a word, an insight so luminous 
it made me stir and realize I must 
have already known it in order to 
dream that I learned it. But like Ishmael, 
why say more? Leak awakens knowledge of 
lack and now I’m staring at the drip from 
the kitchen sink wondering if all the 
oceans are peering down the spout, holding back. 

— Lauren Dominguez Chan is a junior in Grace Hopper College.

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