https://caspercollege.cvlcollections.org/files/original/74f010aa2078bfd6b72ae824c894ac96.pdf 686ceabf105dc13abfe58828b06df724 PDF Text Text UespbEie Weston Chorak Over there are the roots of trees, the empty dwellings of birds and snakes. The low light of dusk fades through currents of falling snow. It trembles under the shaky breaths of mountain wind. He looks at me with the eyes of a wasp seizing and convulsing over a half-eaten moth, and coughs before falling and vomiting into the slush. He is an angry man. It's the difference between myself and men like him, I do not look at people intent on finding fault. I am passive. An observer. He beats his will against the asphalt until it is broken and bloody, 1 should have known it when I saw him on the roadside. His hands had no gloves, shaking, and the mailbox would not stay closed. A thick black coat over a yellow flannel shirt and no hat to cover his red ears. He fumbled with a hammer, and dropped it as he pulled nails from his pocket. He was swearing to himself when I slowed down and parked off the road, took my keys from the ignition, and opened the door. I had no wish to spend my night under the faded light of the hazy mountain nightfall. I knew he did not either. I walked over to him. He struggled to hold a nail against the front of the box and hammer it in. With the first swing of the hammer, he knocked the nail down to the ground and muttered again. I do not understand why he would have a mailbox without a means of closing it and keeping it closed when he lives on a windy mountain, nor can I imagine why he would be worried about keeping an empty mailbox closed anyways. And what would he do when he needed to open it again? It seemed to me such a fruitless and foolish task. I did not say that to him, though. I approached with a friendly grimace and asked if I could do anything to help. He turned to me. His face was a reminder that it was no longer a gentle summer afternoon. A 190 Expression Magazine �Vespine reminder I did not want. The dry freeze of November hung in the air without remorse, as rough as his quivering breath and as cold as his stiff smile. It takes a certain kind of man to meet kindness with annoyance, and even a parasite doesn't reject a willing host. I don't shrug away help with a sneer. I meet it with gratitude. It’s what separates men like him from myself. Of course, I don't see myself as a Samaritan. I am a watcher only of the irrelevant, a keeper only of things that do not matter. But I help when I can. When I offer my help, I can't stop myself from feeling bitter if my efforts are wasted. I would not sacrifice my time for a false gratitude. I was not angry with this man. My love for my countrymen is unhindered, my anger without ill will, my frustration without enmity. But he saw it in the twitch of my eye, the fracture of my expression. He saw it in the hiding of my teeth behind closed lips. I saw it in his face when I told him I didn't have time for an asshole like him before turning to leave. He knocked me down into the muddy snow and as I turned and lifted my arms he swung the hammer across my cheek and it cracked loudly. He lifted it and brought down the claw to my face, swinging again and again with clumsy imprecision. Even as the hammer was stuck in my eye, he ripped it out and swung again, missing my face and grazing my ear before it slipped from his hand. He was shaking. If you watch the snow growing on the asphalt, you will see it breathe. It is ragged and heavy. Its heartbeat shakes without rhythm and the blue arteries that run through it pulse under the moonlight. It was then that he became sick, and now he lifts his head before looking at me and vomiting again. He wipes his face and stands. There is nothing behind the black webs on his eyes. He’s thinking of what to do now, but he knows it doesn’t matter. He will never escape the craving and thirst that 65th Edition 191 �I 1 J V^ne perpetuate his existence. That's the thing about men like him. They're like wasps. They will spread their venom wherever they go until they are crushed on the asphalt by the heel of a boot. His body is helpless, stuck with a parasitic mind that is slowly killing itself through pure instinct, and he will only know suffering. My mind is free of sorrow, It flows in the veins of the mountain and breathes with the heartbeat of the snow. 192 Expression Magazine � Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Original Format The type of object, such as painting, sculpture, paper, photo, and additional data Print Magazine Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Vespine Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource <div class="element-text five columns omega"> <p><a href="http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC/1.0/">http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC/1.0/</a></p> </div> <div id="dublin-core-rights" class="element"> <div class="element-text five columns offset-by-two"> <div id="dublin-core-rights" class="element"> <div class="element-text five columns offset-by-two"> <p><em>Expression</em><span>&nbsp;</span>claims first North American rights to submissions selected for publication. All rights revert back to the author/artist after publication.</p> </div> </div> <div id="dublin-core-date-created" class="element"> <div class="field two columns alpha"></div> </div> <p></p> </div> </div> <div id="dublin-core-date-created" class="element"> <div class="field two columns alpha"></div> </div> Date Created Date of creation of the resource. 2025 Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Weston Chorak Language A language of the resource ENG Is Part Of A related resource in which the described resource is physically or logically included. Expression Literary and Arts Magazine, CCA 04.ii.c.2022.01 WyCaC US. Casper College Archives and Special Collections. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context CCA_04.ii.c.2022.01_Exp_2025_Prose_07 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource Searchable PDF Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available Casper College