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Blurred Faces

April 17, 2019/in School Lunch, School Lunch 2019 / Amanda Lopez

[flash prose]

When you first open your eyes, all you can see is the brightness. You don’t know what it is, but you feel your stubby fingers reach for that light. Pale clouds of cream dot your vision as you squirm, your back brushing against a fur blanket. You feel tender hands wrap delicately around your torso, its sensitive warmth spreading across your skin, and pull your small form away from that security. The pale clouds stitch together into a quilt of color, and you blink frantically to focus.

Later, you recognize the splash of pure white as your mother’s dazzling smile and the black spots as your father’s stubble, scratching you whenever he kissed you on the cheek. From your mother’s playful peek-a-boos, you realize the swinging blues as your mother’s sapphire earrings, and from your father’s fluttering hand butterflies, you make out the shimmering silver band as your father’s platinum wedding band.

When your vision finally allows you to observe your mother’s face, you admire how her dark eyelashes shiver in delight when she laughs, how the edges of her eyes crinkle when you try to talk, bubbles of spit blooming around your mouth that you think is gross, but your mother coos and calls it adorable. It takes you longer to recognize your father. Maybe it was the way his dark beard climbs up half his face or how his mess of brown hair curls to hide his otherwise striking green eyes. You like to tangle your hands in those curls, swishing them and watching its chaotic dance. The boisterous laugh you emit makes your father undeniably happy, and you wonder how a grown man could make such a high-pitched sound.

You dream of the colors you were finally able to explore, darting through lush forests, chattering with toucans and waltzing with peacocks. You race through meadows of wheat and watch as their beige arms extend endlessly towards the sky. You lie on the damp grass of your backyard, gazing towards the magenta sunset. You watch as the sky becomes a canvas and the sun its artist, painting a transitory masterpiece. You scrawl across untouched papers with your tools of creation, the colors you mix brilliantly dashing in a curved formation, a fragile butterfly, mid-flap, struggling to escape the paper’s incessant restraint.

One night you startle awake, grabbing for anything that will sustain your presence in reality. You breathe, telling yourself it was just a dream. But even with the lights on, you can no longer see the paper cranes you hung off your ceiling, only fuzzy dots of pink, blue, and purple, splashes of color that had once been your stunning creations. When your mother comes to check on you, you feel hot tears run down your face. No matter how hard you squint, you can no longer make out the deep dimples you used to poke affectionately at, nor the light brown freckles you used to count one by one.

You’re a kaleidoscopic butterfly, made to admire Mother Earth yet forced to endure a life surrounded by blurred faces, ones whose features you used to know so well, now only a thin mist—an illusion—drifting in and out of your sight.

 

Christine Zang lives in Palo Alto, California and is a junior at Henry M. Gunn High School. She has been writing casually since sixth grade. “Blurred Faces” was inspired by a conversation she had with a friend. They were talking about what it would be like to suddenly lose the ability to see and how the perception of the world would change.

https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/ChristineZANFFB.jpg 788 940 Amanda Lopez https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Amanda Lopez2019-04-17 12:59:062020-01-05 17:05:27Blurred Faces

School Lunch Archive

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Friday Lunch Blog

Friday Lunch! A serving of contemporary essays published the second Friday of every month.

Today’s course:

The Enduring Haunting of a Failed Driver’s Test(s)

September 15, 2023/in Blog / Meghan McGuire
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https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/03/IMG_7402-1-scaled.jpeg 2560 2291 Meghan McGuire https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Meghan McGuire2023-09-15 14:59:022023-09-15 14:59:02The Enduring Haunting of a Failed Driver’s Test(s)

Glitch Wisdom

May 12, 2023/in Blog / KJ McCoy
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https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/05/christmas-chamo-squashed-scaled.jpg 2560 1573 KJ McCoy https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png KJ McCoy2023-05-12 11:00:032023-05-12 15:54:05Glitch Wisdom

Lessons on Getting Paid: My First Year as a Freelance Writer

April 14, 2023/in Blog / EJ Saunders
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https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/04/paul-hanaoka-unsplash-freelance-pay-post-1-scaled.jpg 2560 1707 EJ Saunders https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png EJ Saunders2023-04-14 11:59:292023-04-14 12:09:57Lessons on Getting Paid: My First Year as a Freelance Writer

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Midnight Snack

Take a bite out of these late night obsessions.

Tonight’s bites:

The Secret Histories of Everywhere

June 2, 2023/in Midnight Snack / Brian Lynn
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https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/headshot.jpg 241 358 Brian Lynn https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Brian Lynn2023-06-02 23:47:102023-06-12 23:03:37The Secret Histories of Everywhere

Into the Linguistic Rabbit Hole

May 5, 2023/in Midnight Snack / paparouna
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https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/05/alexander-grey-IDxuUey3M5E-unsplash-scaled.jpg 1707 2560 paparouna https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png paparouna2023-05-05 23:55:022023-05-05 20:13:45Into the Linguistic Rabbit Hole

Dancing into Detachment

April 7, 2023/in Midnight Snack / Robert Kirwin
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https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/04/IMG_8449-scaled.jpg 2560 1920 Robert Kirwin https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Robert Kirwin2023-04-07 23:50:412023-04-07 18:13:12Dancing into Detachment

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Amuse-Bouche

Little bites every third Friday to whet your appetite!

Today’s plate:

Exercise

September 11, 2023/in Amuse-Bouche / Cecilia Savala
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https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/Cecilia.jpg 1106 1080 Cecilia Savala https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Cecilia Savala2023-09-11 00:00:362023-09-11 00:00:36Exercise

LitDish: Ten Questions With Isabel Yap

September 1, 2023/in Amuse-Bouche / Interviewed by Gail Vannelli
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https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/Isabel-Yap.jpeg 1412 1376 Interviewed by Gail Vannelli https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Interviewed by Gail Vannelli2023-09-01 12:37:292023-09-01 12:37:29LitDish: Ten Questions With Isabel Yap

Pawing the Ground

July 23, 2023/in Amuse-Bouche / Laurie Granieri
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https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/07/Laurie-Granieri-headshot-rotated.jpg 1544 1160 Laurie Granieri https://lunchticket.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/lunch-ticket-logo-white-text-only.png Laurie Granieri2023-07-23 12:39:522023-07-25 09:30:39Pawing the Ground

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Word From the Editor

If you are an artist of any kind, chances are you are no stranger to The Unknown. In fact, it has probably been a motivating factor in creating your art. I know it has been for me. Wrestling with The Unknown is a fundamental part of the human experience, and the human experience is a fundamental part of art.

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