Written by Lauren Zheng from Guelph Collegiate Vocational Institute, Canada My greasy hands were rejecting Adele’s tissue box when the ground shifted. Chairs shook, chalk broke, and pencils clattered to the floor, as if we were in a bus that had jolted into movement. Through the grimy window, we watched our tier - our world - utterly change. The sky, once paper-white and creased like my teacher’s face, morphed into an ovular sea of light with distant shores of brown. An end
Written by Felix Mao from Rye Country Day School, New York, USA The receptionist glanced up as I entered the office. “Name?” she asked. “Sam Jones,” I said, calm, cool, and collected, just like I had been taught. She then handed me a number and directed me to sit in the interview room. I took a seat and saw I had been handed the number 01. First. An average person might feel anxious at this position in the queue, but I was not an average person. As I waited, other applicants
