Emma Pollet

Class of

Articles

  • Something to remember me by

    prologue

    When my grandmother went to Egypt, the third time, she brought me back a tiny golden camel statue. If you open the hump on its back, you won’t find water, but air. A place to place a diamond or two. A ring, a ten cent Euro. Or, in my case, a tiny scrap of paper from a notepad with an owl motif.

    Pillbox | February 28, 2022
  • Flor

    There’s always that crack in the sidewalk. No matter how you treat it, no matter what you tell it, weeds still grow through. You’d think they’d feel the cold air of their unwelcome. Hear your tireless remarks: “No. This is for walking, not the growing of unwanted plants. For moving on, not the growing of you in my thoughts.” And what recurring thoughts they are — these tiny green sprouts that smel...

    Pillbox | February 7, 2022