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Author: athcreative

athcreative
My name is Kelsey Crosby, and to give a disappointing answer that burning question, no, I am not related to Sidney. I grew up in a small community in Nova Scotia called Lake Echo dancing, paddling, and Girl Scouting my way through my childhood (although I usually played hooky at the latter). I am a third year English major here at Acadia and I am the Creative Section Editor for the Ath this year. This means I want to be a part of getting your drawings, poetry, short stories, music or anything else creative published! Whenever you get a burst of creativity you just have to show the people of Wolfville, I am easy to track down and more than willing to grab coffee and talk about how to display your work. If you have any nerves about people seeing your creations, or have no idea how to get started, I am completely open to working together to make sure you are able to comfortably become part of your school’s newspaper, because remember, this is your paper too! One of my favourite things about myself is that I am a creative person, as I love to express myself through colours and words. I had a love for reading and writing at a very early age and plan to feed that passion in my future by publishing my own novels and collections. I typically write mysterious, suspenseful, and twisted short stories, and I am also one of those ‘weirdos’ who actually enjoys the process of essay writing. I look forward to working alongside the other section editors of the Ath and the rest of Acadia’s student body this year, and I can’t wait to see what kind of creative juice the Axemen and Axewomen have to show off!

Swimming Lessons

I do not know how to put the happy back in my head how to stop the aching of my bones how to fill the hole between my lungs. I am a ship capsized by a sea of...

Here Lies Caesar and His Men: Worshipped, Lost, Magnificent, Doomed; Homesick but not Forgotten

All this happened both forever ago and about a half a second since, in a span of around thirty seconds. It seems like an unapproachable distance of separation...

Empty Ovens

The smell of ash and winter clung to her stockings like the babies her husband...

The alt-nah

A silent political fringe so low-key they’ve never actually been classified....

Red Bullet

She was a flame. The hot red poker was always cracking down on my fingers as I...

Pretending

I bring my wine glass to my lips, letting the bouquet of it introduce itself to...

Motivation

Feeling lost? Are you scared? I can tell something is on your mind. Look,...

Ego

You think you are a gift. The sun. The moon. The tides. All rise for...

The Next Morning

There you lie with her Confused, filled with dread and shame The mourning...

Oh, The Places You’ve Been and The Places You’ll Go

With move-in day approaching I began to feel nervous. More than 1,400 miles...