by Alaina Hammond
My sophomore year of college, the chemistry lab exploded. Well, not the entire thing, but the damage was enough to destroy expensive equipment.
I was an engineering major, so I wasn’t directly affected. Still, rumors from the chemistry wing leaked into our corner.
A formal investigation ruled it an accident, but the rumors didn’t dissipate. Longer than gas, they lingered.
I never asked my roommate if he’d done it.
But I’d sometimes glance at the photo he kept on his night table. I wondered if the girl behind glass knew what he’d done—that she was the catalyst.
Alaina Hammond is a poet, playwright, fiction writer, and visual artist. Her poems, plays, short stories, nonfiction, paintings, drawings and photographs have been published both online and in print. Her novelette Jillian, Formerly Known as Frog Girl was published by Bottlecap Press. Three of her flash fiction stories (“Jane Passes The Bar Exam,” “To Serve In Retail Hell,” “As Numb As I Am”) have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, all in 2025. instagram: @alainaheidelberger