Windward Review Vol. 20 (2022): Beginnings and Endings
"Beginnings and Endings" (2022) challenged South Texas writers and beyond to narrate structures of beginnings and ends. What results is a collection of poetry, prose, hybrid writing, and photography that haunts, embraces, and consoles all the same. Similar to past WR volumes, this collection defies easy elaboration - it contains diverse tones, languages, colors, and creative spaces. Creative pieces within the text builds upon others, allowing polyvocal narratives to interlock and defy the logic of 'beginning-middle-end'. By the end of this collection, you will neither sense nor crave the finality that a typical text brings. Instead, you will be inspired to learn and create beyond a narrative linear structure. Your reading and support is sincerely appreciated.
"Beginnings and Endings" (2022) challenged South Texas writers and beyond to narrate structures of beginnings and ends. What results is a collection of poetry, prose, hybrid writing, and photography that haunts, embraces, and consoles all the same. Similar to past WR volumes, this collection defies easy elaboration - it contains diverse tones, languages, colors, and creative spaces. Creative pieces within the text builds upon others, allowing polyvocal narratives to interlock and defy the logic of 'beginning-middle-end'. By the end of this collection, you will neither sense nor crave the finality that a typical text brings. Instead, you will be inspired to learn and create beyond a narrative linear structure. Your reading and support is sincerely appreciated.
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Ava Coronado<br />
Sibling Harmony<br />
Summer <strong>20</strong>15<br />
When I was fifteen, Eleanor was finally home from<br />
the University of Texas, <strong>and</strong> it was a summer where we<br />
unexpectedly bonded over love <strong>and</strong> friendships…<br />
We reconnected with brothers—Noah <strong>and</strong> Dean, our<br />
friends for over ten years. It was a peculiar piece of time as<br />
Eleanor <strong>and</strong> I were filled with butterflies by these smooth<br />
dancing siblings. That summer we met up at Sonic every Sunday night, facing our friends,<br />
wondering when the brothers were going to walk in—eventually blushing at their red caps,<br />
as their tall physiques strode past the metal door, into the s<strong>and</strong> filled volleyball court.<br />
“How did you get that cut? Oh yeah, SAND,” Dean joked as he threw the volleyball<br />
at the ground, reminiscing over last week’s tragedy of the Sonic s<strong>and</strong> cutting his knee. I<br />
laughed, admiring his humorous energy.<br />
Sometimes instead of the volleyball courts, our sibling<br />
harmony motioned the waves <strong>and</strong> kindled the flares on the<br />
beach… As the bonfire crackled in front of us, Noah’s h<strong>and</strong><br />
reached for Eleanor, tangling his fingers in her curly blonde hair<br />
as her face blushed with a pink undertone… Dean looked at me<br />
excitedly, switching the two step music to The Weekend while we<br />
danced on the bed of Noah’s red truck, looking up at the bright<br />
stars, interlocking h<strong>and</strong>s as we sung our lungs out. “I can’t feel my face when I’m with YOU,<br />
but LOVE IT, but I LOVE IT.” He danced smoothly like Justin Timberlake, <strong>and</strong> my bare face<br />
flashed a smile.<br />
Fall<br />
Fast forward a couple months, I was falling in love<br />
with Dean as I watched Eleanor <strong>and</strong> Noah bond over their<br />
reoccurring movie theater dates every Thursday night--The Gr<strong>and</strong><br />
Budapest hotel, Interstellar, Boyhood… I left Eleanor a note every<br />
time she had a date with Noah, just because I wanted her to<br />
know when I went to sleep <strong>and</strong> that I hoped she had fun. I never<br />
<strong>and</strong> I mean never texted her when she was on a date with Noah, because she was so caught<br />
up in cinema talk, she did not have a chance to be on her phone. Who could blame her<br />
though? Noah was attractive, smart, funny. He was tall <strong>and</strong> made funny jokes <strong>and</strong> they<br />
both had intellectual talks only they could underst<strong>and</strong>. I mean they could talk for hours,<br />
<strong>and</strong> they did. About life, about movies, God, relationships, love, family, each other—so<br />
much.<br />
For months, Noah <strong>and</strong> Eleanor had met up at the Alamo Draft-house theater, catching<br />
late night flicks in the black leather seats, picking each other’s minds afterward, as they<br />
discussed elements of movies like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind—that made it<br />
worth it.<br />
“Do you think we’ll ever want to erase each other from our minds?” Noah asked.<br />
“Huh. What a sad thought… I hope not,” Eleanor replied.<br />
“Ahh, relationships…”<br />
“What about them?”<br />
“It’s just sad, you never know when they’ll go up in flames,” he said.<br />
11 <strong>Windward</strong> <strong>Review</strong> <strong>Vol</strong>ume <strong>20</strong>
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