Cold, lonely air pressed the blanket to me. Toes curled, uncurled, and pumped poor circulation; joints snapped and popped.

She, warm in her own room, recounted new romance to a blog.

And if, with honest certainty, you knew you did not miss her, why would you pull your blanket tighter?

A journalism major with a creative writing minor, Alice loves linguistics, ukuleles, and long talks about humanity’s place in reality with relation to God, the universe, and the greater cosmos as a whole.