Editor's Note: As college students, there’s something remarkably reassuring and relieving in the prospect of coming home. No matter what that home might look like, knowing we can retreat from the craziness of college life for the holidays makes these wintry November and December days just a little warmer. Though we received many submissions which did a great job of capturing that feeling, this piece was unique in that it beautifully identifies a very different kind of home, one crafted entirely by nostalgia and vulnerability. -Bailey Tulloch, Monthly Contest Committee Head, R2: The Rice Review Note: There will be no December contest, but we are now taking submissions for our annual magazine and our contests should be up and running again in the spring. Visit us at r2ricereview.com for more information! Scraping Stars
By Miranda Proctor Stars scraped against the sky pier cing tenuous twi light. Breezes breathed life as ghosts of notes from the mariachi band below wafted to her rooftop perch. Legs dangling-- gravity begging her to fall. Concrete bit the bow of her Achilles-- the roughness leaving a shadow of a kiss. She watched as down below in the courtyard charro men ducked forward and women twirled skirt tails like the fal ling fea ther of a macaw spi ral ing to the ground. When they met their charro men their dresses grew ravenous-- whip ping from side to side. All eyes threw light back up to the scraping stars above. Finally She was home.
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