The Arrow 2024 – Post #3

Welcome to the 2024 Arrow Online. So excited to share some incredible art & writing by Hackley’s middle schoolers!

This is our third post of the season. This post highlights a range of writing, photography, drawing and sculpture from across the middle school.

Stay tuned as over the last couple weeks of this 2023-24 school year, we will continue to share all kinds of visual arts and writing.


Click on any image from this photo gallery to see full image.


by Xi H. ’30


The stars await you,

a hard brightness, beautiful and distant

glimmering at Destiny’s end.

Your sails are swept with inky black.


O, voyager, voyager of the cosmos,

voyager on a ship unknown,

you unfurled your sails to travel beyond that land.

Even yet, you remember those golden sands.


But oh, voyager, each memory of that life left behind

passes like a fleeting dream,

wisps of smoke hovering over a swath of sky.

The beach is lost in blue.


How soon you forget what it was like

to be among the gulls and fish.

The waves are awash with your hopes and cries.

You long for a slash of green in the eternal sea.


I see you, a ghost neither alive nor dead,

a lonely ship at the ocean’s edge.

You hear the crash of waves tumbling into the void,

void that drowns all voice.

Oh tiger

by Ben S. ’29

Oh tigers, how great and mighty!

I just love them, alrighty.

Tiger, tiger burning bright,

shining like the morning light.

Oh tigers never go extinct,

running and moving in a blink.

Oh tiger, why not live with me?

Oh tiger, please come to a tea.

Hello my dear, how are you doing?

I might sneak up on you but never would never be booing.

Sneaking up on the hunt, always the hunt,

its teeth sharp at knives, never blunt,

Oh tiger, the time has come.

I’ll see you like the tip of my thumb.



by Cecelia F. ’31

I am from homemade popsicles in the freezer next to solid-hard peas,

from Smucker’s peanut butter and American Standard shower heads.

I am from the warm pink-themed room full of swimming medals and ribbons, safe and cozy.

It felt like luck and joy running through my clean house.

I am from the rivers I watched my sister and dad fish from as I caught worms for bait,

from the dandelions I kicked when they were all white and would fly up like smoke.

I’m from driving to the Outer Banks every summer with my whole family and always being too early to events,

from Grandma Sandi and my little cousins Casper, Simone, Sal, and Frankie.

I’m from the left-out folded laundry no one wants to put away and the Nerf gun fights with my dad,

from finish your food and stop fighting with your sister.


I’m from my best friend Ariana that I’ve known for six years and has always been by my side.

I’m from Brooklyn and Germany.

I’m from Panera’s kitchen sink cookies and my sister’s famous homemade meringues,

from my great aunt Sponsa who opened many orphanages and helped kids struggling in war who were malnourished and in need of families.

I am from my uncle who served in armies and hid his identity to stay in them.

I am from swimming and lacrosse, creativity and power.


 The Ick

By Evelyn W. ’28


BRIANNA: polite, kind, college freshman, pretty

ANTON RANDOLF: narcissistic, misogynist, rude, unhygienic, college senior

MOM: Goofy, wants grandchildren

WAITER: Italian, male, thick Italian accent.

(Lights up on BRIANNA, wearing a fancy dress and full glam makeup, on the phone with MOM in a fancy Italian restaurant with dim lighting…)


I can’t believe you guilt tripped me into this!


I did not! (indignant.) We both know you need a man.


No, you think I need a man. I told you I wanted to focus on myself and my studies.


You know this is good for you, (mumbles) plus I want grandbabies.


I heard that. Where is he anyways, we agreed to meet at 6:00 it’s 6:45.

(ANTON walks into the restaurant with a baseball cap on backwards, gold chain, full nike tech wear, and red yeezys. BRIANNA sees him)


Oh god I think I see him. Mom, what the heck! You set me up with him! Okay, whatever gotta go.

(BRIANNA stands up to greet ANTON, as he walks over arrogantly. She stretches her hand out to shake, but he fakes and dodges her hand.)



(BRIANNA rolls her eyes when ANTON is laughing loudly at his own joke. BRIANNA has a visibly upset expression, but ANTON does not notice.)


Mr. Stevenson, should we take a seat?


You can call me ANTON, better yet call me babe. (ANTON winks at BRIANNA.)


Let’s… (makes gagging expression) refrain from that.(WAITER comes by to take their order.)


Good evening, What can I get for you?


Shoo! Come back later, I’m not done. (WAITER makes an offended expression.) Nevermind come back!


What can I get you, sir? (note of annoyance in his voice.)


I’ll have the Calemeri Freetee, G-nochee Sorrento, and Halato.

(BRIANNA covers her face with embarrassment. WAITER’S eye twitches.)


Calamari Fritti, Gnocchi Sorrento, e gelato, and what can I get you, Milady?


I’ll have the…


She’ll have the salad.

Coming right up! (WAITER exits. Silence, while ANTON fixes his hair and smolders at her, biting his lower lip. An Awkward silence of 5 seconds pass.)


So, ANTON! Tell me about yourself.


Well…uh, I’m super hot, I’m sure you could tell, I love

my mama, and I wish we could go back to the good old patriotic days.

(BRIANNA looks disgusted.)


Cool…uh I can tell you a little bit about me.


Go for it, woman.


Alright, I’m 19 years old. I’m studying psychology, and I am very organized.


Well you seem like you fit my mama expectations for a wife.

Wait, what?


Well, my mama was looking for a girl who will stay at home and do the chores. You’re organized so you check that box, and you can make all the money for the family. You’re pretty enough I guess, and that’s my only standard. I mean you could use some serious concealer, and you need to lose weight, but other than that you’re a 8/10.


(talks through clenched teeth.) I see.


So, (oblivious) if you’re down, we could meet up some other time, eh? Maybe you could meet my mama.


I don’t think that’s necessary. Let’s just get through dinner first.


Playing hard to get? Woman, that’s no way to get my attention.


JESU–(Takes a deep breath) Please, Mr. Randolf, refrain from calling me that.


Whatever, woman. What percent of the bill are you gonna take?


What what? Don’t tell me you were expecting me to pay for you. I only make minimum wage. What is wrong with you females? Why do y’all always want us to do things for you? Like. It’s. Not. That. Deep.

He,hehheh. (BRIANNA’S eye twitches.) Nevermind then, I’ll pay ½.


Good. (leans back in chair. ANTON picks his nose and flicks it off his finger. WAITER brings food.)

Here you are! (About to leave.)


Wait! What is this bro? (pointing at a dish)

The Gnocchi, sir. Is there something wrong?


This is not Gnocchi, Gnocchi is pasta you freak show!


(sighs.) Sir, I assure you, Gnocchi is not pasta.


You’re just trying to trick me. (stands up and slams the napkin on the floor.) This is a disgusting restaurant. You just wait (takes out his phone.) I’m giving you a bad rating.

Sir, calm down, I will get you your pasta.

(WAITER rushes to get pasta.)

Please, just sit down (exasperated.)


Shut up girl, I’m not weak like you. I will stand up for myself.

Okay (sighs while talking.)


Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom. (grabs purse.)

(ANTON is fuming and on his phone still standing. ANTON ignores BRIANNA. BRIANNA gets up and walks towards the stage right. WAITER comes out of the kitchen and they meet.)


I’m so sorry about the inconvenience, in fact to compensate you I’ll order everything on the menu, but make sure it’s takeout. The gentlemen will pay.

(BRIANNA and WAITER smile at each other mischievously.)

Of course milady. Have a great evening!

(BRIANNA exits stage right. WAITER walks toward the table.)


Finally! (waves his hands in the air.)

(Lights out…)


The Scarf

by Ellie F. ’28

            “Is this alright, Grandma?” I ask, presenting my scarf to her. She smiles, and her happiness replaces the ache in my heart. She steadily lowers my arms and cups my face in her hands.

            “It’s perfect, sweetie,” she replies, her eyes interlocking with mine. For the first time in a while, I give her a bright, genuine smile.

            “Grandma?” I ask, “Can you tell the story of how you met Grandpa again? It’s my favorite!”I look up at her, my eyes glistening with interest.

            “Yes, of course,” she chuckles. “Your grandfather was a very intelligent man, an explorer in fact. We met while he was on an expedition in Chile.”

            “Ow!” I yelp, interrupting the story as the knitting needle pierces my skin. Grandma whips her head around, urgency plastered across her face; blood oozes out of my finger.

“Here, give that to me,” Grandma murmurs. Her fingers brush against mine, the touch of her hand surprisingly light and icy cold. “This shouldn’t get infected; go get a Band-Aid so it can heal properly.”

I dart out of the room. The sound of my heart hammers in my ears. I grab the Band-Aids and hurry back, a feeling of uncertainty rising in my throat.

“I’m back!” I pant.
“Perfect, sweetie,” she says.

But something doesn’t feel right. I try to remember but my mind is cloudy. The air around us suddenly grows thin as I extend my arm. Grandma reaches to touch my hand, but her solid form slowly disintegrates. My head is heavy as the room circles around me. A tsunami of memories crashes into my mind, and my eyes blink open as if I’m waking up for the first time. My heart rate slows as I begin to process the reality I’ve been dreading to face.

            A scream of terror escapes my lips.

Grandma is not there. Tears pour out of my eyes as my gaze switches from the empty chair to the vase of ashes on top of the fireplace.

The inscription reads:

 Doris Steiner

Beloved wife, mother, and grandma

Born 1950-2023.

“Grandma?” I cry.

There is no reply.

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