Student author Asia Magrone ‘24 sits overlooking the ocean and writes to a loved one who has passed, reminiscing and reliving their last days together in August. As memories fade and time passes, she struggles to grasp the broken pieces. You can read her piece in the latest INK, St. Stephen’s Arts and Literary magazine issue.
We are proud to present INK, St. Stephen's Arts and Literary Magazine, a testament to the exceptional talent and creativity of our students.
This publication not only showcases the diverse artistic and literary skills of our student body but also reflects the transformative impact of their engagement with new challenges. Through their contributions, students at St. Stephen’s are continually pushing boundaries and reaching new heights in their creative endeavors.
INK is a platform where these achievements are highlighted, celebrating their growth and the innovative spirit that drives them forward. St. Stephen’s senior and now alumna Asia Magrone offers this following short piece, “Peter by the Sea,” about the reminiscence of a loved one who has passed. We hope you explore the latest edition to read her story and see how our students are rising to meet new challenges and achieving excellence in their craft.
On summer days, I think about how much you loved the ocean. You said it was like the mother you never had. Light poured from the window onto the table. You tried to grasp it with your fingers as if you were asking for something to love you. Then you told me about the way it felt to be underwater.
In the blue, stillness felt like a beating heart. Like your mother's womb. It was a Sunday, and we were eating pancakes when you told me this. you started crying softly like I knew you would. I held you tightly in my arms so that the broken pieces of your body wouldn't fall apart. That's when you confessed; August was haunting your heart.
And now you collect carcasses because you know that memory fades. Dust settles on the flesh of your heart. The house of all the people you've loved. White sheets in every room. On the walls, pictures that remind you of the lost days of July. You made yourself a home out of a morgue.
Five years since I've seen you last, but I think of your words in the last days of August, when things are getting sad for no reason. I sit on a bench that overlooks the ocean, writing you letters but never receiving a reply. Last time we spoke you had shrunk into the arms of a quiet little bird, no teeth in your mouth.
Asia Magrone, Class of 2024
St. Stephens's School Rome
