Lindsey Smith
(she/her/hers)
Lindsey is a second year hoping to double major in Sociology and Public Policy. After undergrad, she hopes to attend law school to become an immigration attorney. Outside of IRIS, she is an active member of University Dance Club, Chi Omega, and is a certified personal trainer. In her free time, she can frequently be found trying to squeeze in a workout, caring for her overabundance of houseplants, and wandering aimlessly around Barnes and Noble.
when sunlight hits foggy glass just right
prints reveal themselves, oil smeared into smiling faces
The red dress I had planned on wearing to my boyfriend’s winter formal, coincidentally, happened to be the same shade of red as the back of my throat. That is, as I was about to discover, the portion of it that wasn’t covered in white stripes of bacteria (lovely, I know).
I knock, gently, on the door, but there is no answer. Perhaps I am at the wrong address.
To be honest, I was quaking in my boots over writing this feature. Miriella Jiffar is far from a scary person, but doing her talent justice is quite a scary feat.
I was in Sephora over winter break, looking for a new perfume, when a couple of girls who could not be any older than 11 shoved past me to get to the Sol de Janerio display.
Back in high school, I did not care at all about the holidays.
Dearest,
I watched from the top of the staircase tonight as you gripped the railing on the way down, knuckles white and still bony from the years you let me hold them.
As I watch Bridgerton edits on TikTok, I once again ask myself, “Why do they get to dress up and go to balls, while I have to dress up and go to frat parties?”
when i was growing up, the waves crashing against the assateague island beach sounded like mother nature raking her nails down a sandy chalkboard.