Writings

Author: Irene Page 1 of 31

I know this feeling well

As a journalist, you need to be as accurate as possible. Most of the time, this is an easy task. It requires simple searches to find documented answers. It get more complicated when you start digging into history.

Wait. I can explain everything

Before the dawn of the 21st century, sometimes you had to visit the more skeevy portions of the internet in order to find what you wanted. It was fraught with danger, but only if you didn’t know the traps to look out for before you began.

In a field in western Nebraska

Double life

Things the pandemic has taught me

We’ve been living with the Covid-19 pandemic for a little more than a year now and I’ve learned a lot of new things as well as reaffirmed some things I already knew.

This might be painful, but I need to do it

Sometimes, leaving and finding your own place is the best decision, even if it hurts a little bit.

It was just a knock at the door

My eyes were fixated on the clock. It read 7:43 a.m. Karla would be knocking on my door soon. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, we walked together to Bessey Hall. She had a class and I went into the Anthropology lab to clean and label artifacts.

I was stretched out on the couch under my bald eagle blanket. I stared at the red numbers on the digital clock and watched it turn to 7:44 a.m. There was a bang on my door. My eyes rapidly shifted to my doorknob. Did I remember to lock the door last night?

The perfect pitch

Bats: L; Hits L; BA: .367; ERA: 1.97; Age: 13; Height 5ft. 0in.; Weight: 95 pounds; Position; P, 1st

I stared at the signs Stacy was showing 60 feet away. I shook her off a few times before settling in on my “go-to” pitch. I could place it almost anywhere.

Standing on the pitcher’s mound, the entire world melted away. My teammates knew I liked it quiet, so the normal cheers of encouragement were rarely heard when I was on the mound. I shut out the people screaming in the stands. It was just me, the catcher, and the batter.

I’m not crying, it’s just raining on my face

On any given day, I carry one of several backpacks with me. Inside is a copy of a letter a friend sent to me last year. It’s a list of reasons why she looks up to me and, on many days, it is a foundation which helps me keep moving forward.

Just a fool walking to school

I was a junior in high school before I first attempted to take the bus to school. If you lived more than two miles from school, the district would provide a school bus for students. This was a new experience for me. I was nervous. I had always walked to school, but the idea of not being cold in winter or arriving to school sweaty in June was enticing.

Page 1 of 31

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