By Karen Herbst
Mrs. Webber’s 6th grade Language Arts class was my favorite class. I loved dissecting pieces of poetry and creating my own metaphors for homework that were just like the ones I saw in class. This classroom was a magical place for me, but it was also a place where I fired the first shot of [...]
By Karen Herbst
A queue of chattering 5th graders eye the checkered board where I wait. The last day of chess club, my students now gawk at the fantastic prize I offered them; a huge chocolate bar. A shy girl of 10 approaches the board. I’ve been waiting the entirety of the competition for her. I’ve noticed her [...]
By Karen Herbst
A soft chime is drowned out by the sound of machinery whirring. The ding is followed by instructions in Thai. I don’t know what the pilot said, but I know what he meant: the plane has begun its descent. Without lifting my head from my book, I quietly pick my feet up off the floor. [...]
By Karen Herbst
In a microcosm contained in the walls of one building, there is no God, no celestial or divine force other than in the minds and hearts of the people bustling around the 10 floor maze of hallways, rooms, and departments. In this building you can find literature’s most common archetypal narrative pattern, “the Journey.” “The [...]
By Karen Herbst
On Sundays, my sister and I would race barefoot down the steps, out our blue front door, across our rocky driveway to where it meets the road. There we would find the bright orange bag with Sunday’s edition of The Denver Post. The stubbed toes and early-morning labored breaths were worth it for the glory [...]
By Karen Herbst
My camera focuses. I’ve almost got the shot, but something’s not quite right. With a twist of the wrist and a tug, I pull the lens off the camera and pop it in the small black bag hanging on my waist. Inside the open compartment, my fingers brush over each lens, not taking my eyes [...]
By Karen Herbst
I pass the wall with the puzzles hanging on it a million times each day. Time at the Johnson Adult Day Program goes by in a blur. One summer morning, I see Harold perched at his usual spot, and I slow to take a peek at what he is doing. As Harold senses me approach, [...]
By Karen Herbst
I sat in a woodcarving studio in Xi’an, China with my eyes fixed on my soon to be fā zān. A fā zān is a Chinese hair pin that I would never actually wear. They are beautiful and ornamental but not for girls like me who need their hair to withstand lacrosse goals and cross-country [...]
By Karen Herbst
The stars were dispersed throughout the luminous sky, the full moon the only other sign of light amidst the crisp autumn air. My boots made a small clink every time I climbed another rung of the cold, metal ladder, my grandfather’s 270 Winchester slung over my back. Once at the top, I slid into the [...]
By Karen Herbst
I have a drawer stuffed to overflowing, as full as a drawer can be. Papers get stuck behind it, lodged in the sliding-gear of my dresser. However, I can always stuff in a few more sheets. Notes or “flow paper,” speedily jotted down by competitors in a debate round, is normally tossed when the tournament [...]