A bird perches next to a Cool Whip container to block the wind.

Alright, so we all know it’s getting cold out there. When I say cold, I mean so cold that if you leave any part of your skin exposed, it’s going to go numb. I honestly hate cold weather. I try not to be outside too much, but that’s never accomplished since 1) I have a job, 2) I go to school full-time, and 3) winter provides some of the best photo opportunities you can experience.

So, what I like to do is bundle up in layers whenever I have to leave the house, and if that doesn’t work, I usually try to imagine myself somewhere warm. Believe it or not, that has worked a couple of times before. I’m not really sure how, but as long as it gets me through those breathtaking icy winds, I’m pretty much down for whatever. Those are just a couple of my tactics for combating the forces of nature. What’s your favorite way of keeping warm?

Micah Taylor

The girl shook her head, unable to comprehend the situation before her. “Are you sure that’s what they said?”

“Yea, that’s what they told me. I guess it’s over now,” the man said, looking away into the distance. “It can’t be, though I don’t know what anything means and why there was—”

Suddenly, an explosion went off in the distance. The man turned his head and said, “They came back.”

“It doesn’t make any sense. Why? I don’t understand any of this!”

The man chuckled, “Look Lee-Ann, these people are not who you and I think they are.  They are bad people. Or things.” 

“Chuck, listen. I only want to know–no, need to know what their motive is, and why they committed such a terrible crime before.”

“These people are not normal. I mean, who robs all the banks in Los Angeles, then kills 10 cops? Flees the city and burns towns in the country?” Chuck asked staring at her.

“I understand they are crazy. What I want to know is why. They hated someone or something,” she replied, walking ahead of him towards the sound of the explosion. “I’m going to go see what happened over there and I’m going to get to the bottom of this!” Lee-Ann said, walking off in a huff. 

 ”It’s really hopeless. There is no point,” Chuck said, walking behind her. 

“What do you mean ‘it’s hopeless!?’ Don’t you even care? These are not people! They are too crazy too be human!” she said, exasperated. “If you want to come, then come, but I need to find out what is going on here!” she added, walking away. 

Chuck sighed, then watched her walk away. “Lee-Ann Saunders, investigative reporter, on the case of the mysterious alien species! Unfortunately, she also chooses to drag along her brother, or as she like to call him, “my secret banker brother.” Chuck sighed, then jogged to catch up to his sister, unsure of what to expect.

“What is it?” Chuck asked. 

Lee-Ann looked at him and sighed, “I should be excited. I am not.” 

“Why? What’s wrong? Didn’t you–oh,” Chuck said following her gaze.

On the ground, there was a mashed up car and four small animals.  A light was flashing in a box above the car. It seemed clear that “they,” whoever they were, were not human. 

“Listen, don’t lose heart. The aliens, if that’s what they are, have a mission. That mission is to mess with you, and you are falling for it,” Chuck said, looking at her. 

Lee-Ann nodded and said, “You’re right. I lost sight of what was right, but honestly, I don’t know what this means anymore.”

Story by Syra Sharif, Staff Writer

Imagine waking up at 7 a.m. on Christmas Eve with a temperature of 102 degrees, covered head to toe with chickenpox…not everybody’s idea of the start to a wonderful holiday break.

I was ten, and my little sister was two years old. I had many oatmeal baths and itched horribly. Still, there was no schedule to keep. I didn’t have to open gifts in a few minutes and then get ready to head out the door for yet another Christmas with extended family. In fact, I spent Christmas Eve eating and drinking whatever I wanted, not what was seasonally in style. No hot chocolate…not with my fever. I enjoyed pizza, pickles, chips and dip, bubbly grape juice, and ice cream. Never since have I been able to pick such a menu. 

I got to open as many gifts as I wanted on Christmas Eve because I looked so pitiful that my parents felt sorry for me. My sister and I stayed up late and played video games (new ones, of course) and watched movies. We got up late, because there was nowhere we had to run to get to in a hurry. I opened presents and enjoyed them one at a time, with no poses and not a single camera in sight (no one wanted to see me looking like that). Once again, I got to play and eat whatever I wanted…not Grandma’s famous oyster dressing, because she worked so hard on it.

As we gave thanks before our holiday meal, I realized how valuable one’s health is. As much as I enjoyed being pampered and lazy, I was “itching” to run and play with my family and friends. Yes, this sickness was to pass, and good health was to return, with more gifts to come.  Meanwhile, I enjoyed one of my favorite Christmases ever. I hope you have yours this year.

Story by Andrew Jones, Staff Writer

From the Well House, Indiana University Kokomo’s scholarly and literary journal, recently attended the 3^rd Annual College Student Literary Magazine Conference at the Danville Area Community College in Danville, Illinois, on November 4th. It is an annual conference inviting student-run literary magazines from across the country to present their publications, network, and exchange ideas. This year, there were seven schools at the conference, including IU Kokomo. I spoke with the editor of From the Well House, Andrew Turley, about his experiences at this conference.

SS:       What did you learn from going to this conference that you hoped to gain?

AT:     I hoped to gain ideas for soliciting submissions and suggestions to expand our presence in our community. Networking in the local community is a key factor for the success of any student organization and I am happy to say we picked up some fantastic ideas.

SS:       What do you hope to teach and show others about literary journals or journals in general after this conference?

AT:     From the Well House stands out among other literary magazines in that we really are forerunners of the online literary journal. Specifically, we address problems we face working in print and how print is a “dying” medium. To combat these problems, we advocate embracing the versatility and interactivity of the Internet. Social networking has been key in promoting our website and providing easy access for contributors to submit work from all over the globe. Reaching out to the community, however, has still proven invaluable and I would highly suggest it to any student organization on campus.

SS:       What do you think is one way that the Well House can improve?

AT:     From the Well House is still a young publication. I am very proud to be overseeing its fifth year in print, which marks a milestone in the growth of From the Well House. From the Well House continues to grow and gain momentum. It could not be where it is today without the support of the University and its incredible staff and faculty, as well as contributions from a talented student body and community. I would like to thank all of our supporters!

From the Well House is still taking submissions for its fifth print issue. The deadline is November 30^th. Hurry and send in your art, painting, or writing to From the Well House. Visit online at www.fromthewellhouse.org and select the “Submit” tab!

BY: Syra Sharif

Looking into your own eyes and seeing frailty, seeing pain and doubt, feeling the depth of suffering from a fissure in your soul, a splitting and fracturing of your existence. A peeling apart, a rending, an instantiation of your Frankenstein gestalt and the leeching of every ounce of poison, every ounce of that stolen choice that saturates your body like an unclean ghoulish doppelganger. Not knowing, not understanding. You will burn. Like a phoenix, you will burn with agony untold and unfelt since the casting down of the fallen rebels. Only through this pain, this destruction, through the killing off of parts of yourself to stave off the death of the whole do you have any hope of life. Melodrama. This too shall pass, but only if you are strong, only through an effort to rival Sisyphus will you prevail. Only if you refuse to bleed any more, only if you refuse to take one more mouthful of water, only if you refuse to cower in the dark hallways of your mind. You exaggerate. Your youth passes with age. Life is a fatal disease.

The inimical perfection of a blossom in spring reminds us that we are all dying. And pain need not be our only reminder that we are alive.

On a cold March night, I started out to build a fire to fight back the chill.

I opened an old cardboard box from the closet.

My old sketchbook. A lacunae. I found a picture I drew with you next to me. For
you.

You had laughed. Cute. A monkey with a strawberry.

Your phone number. Written down hastily, excitement and promise. Desire.

I saw your name. I saw a note that said, “Her eyes”.

I started out to build a fire. It made me colder. Quieter.

It made me remember what you did.

I wrote you a letter. And in it I put everything I ever said to you.

I wrote down everything I ever wanted to say to you and never could.

Everything I ever felt for you.

The feeling of your hand in mine.

Every tear I ever shed for you.

The smile on my face returning yours.

Your name on my lips.

All the hurt you caused me.

I put everything you ever were to me, everything you
ever made me want to be in the letter.

I tried to believe.

Stick to your lie. It was really the only thing you ever made me believe.

It was the only thing you were ever honest about.

Brian A. Arwood

With autumn comes school. School means work. That work usually means stress. Sometimes it is easy to lose focus and forget to enjoy life. For many, this enjoyment and relief comes straight from the melodic sound waves generated from our favorite radio, iPod, or Pandora station. This enjoyment can be so powerful that it is not uncommon to seek a profession chasing that love and passion.

The Student Union Board is always on the hunt for new and exciting acts to bring and expose the students to on campus. When asked what her thoughts were on one specific musician, Preston Pugmire, SUB President Geny Studebaker had only glowing things to say.

“We saw Preston at NACA Nationals, a programming conference, in St. Louis this past spring. He got our attention right away with his unique style.” Studebaker recalls how Preston’s music moved and invigorated an audience to get up and join in the fun. “Over a hundred people went up to the stage to dance to his music. His looping ability goes above and beyond anything we have ever seen before. His voice is so smooth and relaxing. Preston is truly a talented musician.”

But who exactly is Preston Pugmire? A fan has to look no further than short snippets from his biography to realize that he is truly a very well-rounded individual. Preston has been entertaining audiences over four years with his impressive looping performance. He uses electronic pedals placed on the floor to first record what he plays, and then adds to the sound with multiple layers. This, at its essence, is creating a new and exciting song at every single performance he plays. Preston always does this live and the crowd never stops getting involved.

Naturally, with great talent comes recognition, and Preston has won several musical contests with this unique style. This can be attributed to his non-stop, highly energetic act that gets the fans directly involved. His shows are completely captivating and like nothing you have ever seen before. Since they are so original and unique, it doesn’t matter whether this is a first time seeing him or tenth time, because there is never a dull moment. Preston first hit the college circuit in 2011 and is quickly becoming known nationwide as the most popular musician on the circuit.

Bobbie Jo Ridenhour

On October 21^st and 22^nd, the IUK Drama Club performed “Crimes of the Heart,” a play written by Beth Henley. “Crimes of the Heart” is a play set in the 1970s and centers around three sisters who have taken very different paths in life. The play is broken down into three acts and each act digs deeper into the past of the family to help the audience understand each sister a little better.

Photo Provided by Nicholas Parkhurst

The performance hosted only a small cast—just six members. The cast comprised of Lauren Soblotne, Shelby Waggoner, Troy Brooks, Sarah Ferenc, Leah Kimm, and Justin Enyart. Although it took a little time to truly get into the feel of the play, by half way through the second act, the audience was thoroughly enthralled by the story line and performance. The long hours of practice and hard work from the cast and crew truly paid off. Joann Kaiser and J.L. Murdoch, the directors, chose a wonderful play that hits home with many students who are finding themselves “alone” in the world.

I was personally amazed at how well each person portrayed their character. I found myself forgetting that the people on stage were friends that I interact with each day on campus. The set looked beautiful and very realistic. The first time the screen door shut with a bang, it shocked me because I did not expect it.

“Crimes of the Heart,” although saturated with humor, had a wonderful hidden message: as long as we have family, we are never truly alone. Overall, I loved the play, as did many of the other people who attended the same night I did. I am excited to see what the IUK Drama Club does next!

Lisa Brinker