By Audra Miller
Metal Angler Fish Lamp
Photography
Lunch Upon a Time
PoetryBy Kyle Doesken
This isn’t a story of heroes or fairies,
the kind that you’d find on the shelves in libraries.
You’ve heard those before, so I’ll tell you instead
of a story neglected: the heel of the bread.
Our story begins with an average loaf,
purchased by some unremarkable oaf.
An average loaf of whole grain wheat
for an average guy wanting something to eat.
This may sound bizarre, but it’s perfectly true,
that slices of bread are like people like you.
They share but one goal. They have but one dream.
They want to be eaten, as strange as that seems.
They’d find that they’d met with a wonderful fate
If they’re grabbed from the bread bag and put on a plate.
Through Cupped Hands
PoetryBy Jacob Brubaker
Switch: flick.
Marvel at the concept,
let normalcy impress you.
The fruit of your eyes allows a skewed
view.
Trust me, set your life upon my shoulders.
I will never betray you,
only you do that.
Gear: click.
I fumble with a compass,
perched by my hand;
immeasurable?
Can you fathom?
But you winked at me, felt
that you understood.
Cog: clank.
Ring around the rosey.
Flit about with me, friends.
Without fail, the circle will break.
Gone, simple whisper
lost in rushing gale.
Clock: tick.
You tried to hold on,
tiny fingers clasped water,
and failed.
Needn’t fret,
it was inevitable.
Motion…stop
Stone and Sky
PhotographyBy Emily Harder
Fashionable Art
Fashion DesignBy Leah Clark
Black and White- 35mm
PhotographyBy Linsey Laird
White Girl
PoetryBy Mycah Westhoff
Do I really have to show it?
I’ll speed it up then I’ll slow it.
I’ll cut it down then regrow it.
So turn your eyes and ears and watch me own it.
Cuz I speak it, I scat it,
I slam it, I skin it,
I splatter, I sink,
I stretch, I swim,
I spit and swallow it.
I’ve looked in, out, up, all around
Bent it up, stretched it, smelled it, inside outed it,
‘I’ve put my thang down flipped it and reversed it’,
And no matter which way that I work it—
I’m a white girl.
Life Lesson Illustrations
PhotographyBy Christopher Wagoner
Thresher Zone
MusicBy Travon Lewis and Caleb Lázaro
Unofficial team spirit song for Bethel College athletics
Photo Credit: Edward Michael Davila
Free download at: http://rdaptrecords.bandcamp.com/track/thresher-zone
Secret Place
Personal EssaysBy Natalie Unruh
Inside my secret spot, no one can see me. Mom will never find me in my tent. Bright western sunlight is dulled by the blankets before it reaches my hideaway. However, some light peeks in uninhibited to spy on this strange cavern. Children’s Encyclopedias are stacked neatly under a chair, sharing space with the Little House on the Prairie boxed set. The encyclopedias are mostly for show, looking quite official with a rough, gray canvas hardcover with gold lettering up the sides.
Under a different chair in the corner, there is a tipsy stack of National Geographics. They have been slowly sliding to the floor in an avalanche of yellow to rest, bent backed, against a rough wooden chair leg.
I recline in a corner, propped up by mismatched, slightly flattened pillows. A National Geographic lies splayed across my knobby knees. The magazine has been unable to hold my attention for the past few minutes. I am currently occupied with watching the shadows play across my tent’s walls. It’s windy and cold outside and the sycamore tree in front of the house is being batted back and forth by the wind. In my special place, I feel none of the cold.
bclines.bethelks.edu 