By Chamidae Ford It was Tuesday. It was raining, it was always raining. The damp air clung to the walls, dripping, warping the Robins egg blue. A man who had jowls and sticky white hair matted on his scalp was yelling at me.  “Well you know I come every day, why couldn’t you save me … Read More

By Nicole Pasia I opened my eyes and saw blood. Bright, crimson ribbons, so fresh it made the skin underneath seem translucent. It wasn’t my blood. No, my blood was rushing through my veins, spurred on by adrenaline as my body fought for homeostasis. I tried to look around me, but the hard, unforgiving walls … Read More

By Natalie Robinson It’s eighty degrees. I’m sweaty, holding a frosty margarita to my forehead, perched on the back  of a golf cart that has Phil Mickelson’s name engraved on the back.   “Nick, you didn’t tell me your friend was such a good-looking blonde.”   Good looking blonde. What a notion. As a five year old, … Read More

By Tiana Cole Stark my reflection stood, gazing back at me boldly. My hair did not look like the other little girls. Fragile to the touch, too much handling could harm it, sucking the moisture right out. I tried to contain this puff that poked out of my head in all directions. It was as … Read More

By Hannah Sheil Spring 2020 Kaplan Award Winner As the economic effects of coronavirus deepen, Seattle food banks are tasked with handling the growing need for food in their communities while also managing safe distribution practices and significant operational changes. With many communities experiencing food insecurity and others at risk of coronavirus due to pre-existing … Read More

By Dan Facundo Spring 2020 Kaplan Award Winner King County blood centers estimate it will take months to implement a new FDA policy for gay and bisexual male blood donors, leaving many otherwise eligible people unable to donate during the COVID-19 crisis. As thousands of blood drives around the country have been canceled due to COVID-19, … Read More

By Chloe Cook Winter 2020 Kaplan Award Winner Darkness is the first thing I see when I think of Jackie’s house. Dankness, darkness and dust pervades my thoughts as I bring my mind’s eye back into my ten year old body. As I watch myself entering this house of grief, a pit emerges in my … Read More

By Sarah Shapiro Winter 2020 Kaplan Award Winner Tomato sandwiches.   Tomatoes bursting with juice, peak ripeness of the summer season.  Picked fresh from the garden of the salmon colored house.  Sliced and smothered between two slices of bread, smeared with butter and salt.  I can picture my grandmother Helen assembling the sandwich, beads of sweat … Read More

By Sarah Shapiro Winter 2020 Kaplan Award Winner The hallway was still, the murmur of medical machines the only sound to be heard.  I followed my father through the intensive care unit, feet squeaking on the freshly scrubbed floors with each step.  Rooms lined the hallway, patients tucked in the curtain’s shadows.  Everything felt foreign … Read More