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Issue 2:2 (Autumn 2021)

Welcome to the Autumn 2021 issue of Folyosó! Our international contest—about contradictions in life—features writers from Turkey, Hungary, and the U.S.; our other categories boast a rich variety of pieces by students of the Varga Katalin Gimnázium in Szolnok. Two turtles contemplate an escape from their humdrum existence; two cats plot a bank heist; various essays explore human control and its limits; and two stories make the most of their U.S. settings. This is only a small portion of what you will find in the abundant harvest of the Autumn 2021 issue—so go ahead and pick a fruit or gourd!

Letter from the Editor

International Contest

First Place

Second Place

Third Place

Honorable Mention

Essays

Stories

Absurdist Mini-Plays

Poetry

Submit to the Winter 2021–2022 issue!

Cover art by Emese Kassai.

All of the contributors are students of the Varga Katalin Gimnázium in Szolnok, Hungary, except for Aurelia Wiggins, who attends the Columbia Secondary School for Math, Science & Engineering in New York City, and the following nine, who attend the Lycée Sainte-Pulchérie in Istanbul: Roza Kaplan, Sarin Nevruz, Başak Ünal, Ceylin Kıran, Ecem Göksenin Aday, Deniz Sabuncuoğlu, Selin Yumurtacı, and Zeynep Cicimen.

“Kumkapı” by Nerses Boztaş, a finalist in the Autumn 2021 international contest, will be featured in the Winter 2021–2022 issue of Folyosó.

Michelangelo’s David

Lilla Kassai


Renaissance Studies

Lilla Kassai


Letter from the Editor


Folyosó is a year old! It began in the spring of 2020, when school in Hungary had gone online in response to COVID-19. In the fall of 2020, we were briefly back together in person; then, in November, we returned to online instruction and did not return to school until mid-May. During this time, students wrote stories, essays, short absurdist plays, and speeches. We present many of these works here, in the Spring 2021 issue.

First of all, we offer you the Wall. What is a wall, what does it mean, what functions does it perform, and how does it affect our lives? Students from Varga and the Lycée Sainte-Pulchérie in Istanbul took up this topic in many different ways, giving us a labyrinth of walls to wend our way around.

Speaking of walls, in honor of this theme, Csilla Vágóné, the lab technician at Varga, contributed several of her photographs of of student-decorated walls to the Folyosó Gallery.

Next, we present a series of absurdist mini-plays by members of Class 9B. Here you will see a turtle pursuing her dream, a clock and a watch engaged in existential argument, a man visiting a grocery store to buy an elephant, and much more.

This issue also features a collection of speeches—again, by students at Varga and the Lycée Sainte-Pulchérie. Some of these are accompanied by audio recordings. Read and hear what the authors have to say about reading, self-transformation, interplanetary colonization, social media, sharks, the environment, and the real source of love.

If you have a penchant for flash fiction, please visit the Story Hour section, where members of Class 9B tell miniature stories from real life. They are funny, touching, and human; some of them are sure to evoke memories of your own.

As for the art, it is an honor to feature Lilla Kassai’s Renaissance Studies (from which the cover art is excerpted) and her drawn interpretation of Michelangelo’s David. Thank you, Lilla, for all the art you have contributed to Folyosó so far.

Folyosó is a place for students to take intellectual and creative risks, to test out ideas that will develop over time, and to enjoy immersion in reading and writing. All of the pieces were chosen for their unusual and genuine qualities.

We hope you enjoy this first anniversary issue of Folyosó! As ever, we welcome your submissions and comments.

Sincerely,

Diana Senechal
English and Civilization Teacher
Editor of Folyosó

Wall Climbing

Lilla Kassai


I have always loved climbing since I was little. On trees, on rocks, on buildings, on everything, so when I heard that there would be a wall-climbing opportunity in my town, I was thrilled to try it.

When I went to the first training, I was surprised: I expected more people to come, yet there were only nine, not counting count the trainer and myself. And they were mostly guys. There were only four girls: Leticia, Simone, Lucienne, and me, Estelle. They seemed pretty friendly and outgoing. Still, we didn’t talk that much, because they came with their boyfriends, so I ended up a lone wolf. I tried not paying attention to my single-being, but still … looking down while climbing the wall and seeing them hand in hand…. They looked so perfect together, and all I could do was climb and not concentrate on my lonely ass.

Out of nowhere, one of the boys, who had nobody with him, stepped on my hand.

“Ouch!” I yelled.

“If you had been climbing and not gazing at Lucienne and Adrian, I wouldn’t have been able to step on your hand,” groaned the guy, and then he continued to climb.

“And you should have watched out with your leg!” I murmured to myself, but the guy seemed to have radar hearing.

“If you aren’t fast enough, don’t be surprised if you get run over by others,“ he snapped and climbed to the top of the wall as fast as a spider. I didn’t even think he could see anything through his long greasy hair. I tried to climb faster to overtake him, but it seemed impossible.

I wanted to overtake the greasy-haired boy so badly that I wasn’t focusing on where I put my feet. I had almost reached the top when my foot slipped. I had almost fallen from a four-metre height when I felt a gentle but strong squeeze on my hand, the same hand that had been stepped on. When I restored my balance, I glanced up. I gasped: I looked into the eyes of the greasy dark-haired guy who had stepped on my hand. At this moment I was able to examine his face briefly:  he had fair skin and bluer eyes than the Caspian Sea. His glance was so penetrating that I felt him seeing into my soul. Even though I felt frustrated and embarrassed, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. When I realised I was gazing at him as if I were salivating on my Johnny Depp posters, I looked immediately away.

“You’re welcome, snail-girl,” he grinned. I knew it wasn’t ethical, but calling me a snail-girl hurt a bit, so I didn’t thank him for saving me from falling. We didn’t speak until the end of the training.

“I can’t remember hearing you saying thank you….” he murmured to me as I came out of the locker room. He scared me a bit, since I wasn’t expecting him to confront me. I looked in the direction where I thought the voice was coming from, and I saw Mr. Greasy standing at the door of the guys’ locker room, adjusting his spectacles on his nose, which I found somehow fascinating.

“You insulted me, Greasyhead.” I snapped.

“And saved you from a couple of broken bones … Snail-girl…” he giggled, and I quickly got annoyed. Unfortunately, I could only gasp, because nothing came to my mind that I could use to fight back.

“Greasyhead … I like that one … By the way, you should close your mouth, before a bug flies in,” he continued. Continued to troll with me.

“By the way, if you hadn’t run away that quickly, you would probably have heard about next Friday….” He insisted on having a conversation. Well, let’s give him a chance.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, but my tone sounded a bit threatening. Luckily, he didn’t seem to get scared.

“Introduction event within the club. Just a little get-together. Do you fancy coming?”

Waaaaiit a minute … Did he just ask me out? Did he?

“Uhm … yeah I guess…” I responded with a frozen brain.

“Good,” he said, and before I could even blink, he held my right hand, which he had stepped on, and kissed it.

I froze. Why did he do that? I could not even ask him, because the next moment, he turned his back and went away, dissolving in a crowd. 

The next time I saw him at the next training, I didn’t recognise him at first. His hair was tied back in a bun, so I could see his face completely. It was beautiful: pale skin, bright blue eyes, and thin lips surrounded by a little mustache and beard. He also wore a sleeveless t-shirt, so I was able to see his artistically toned muscles. I gasped.

“Hello, Snail-girl!” he greeted me with a huge grin.

“Who are you?” My brain froze while I gazed at the handsome guy. He was familiar, but still….

“My name is Marcial Delacour. I stepped on your hand last time. You might know me as Greasyhead.” He gave me a naughty smile, which made my internal organs melt.

“Eee … Estelle Gardieu….” I offered him my right hand for shaking, but he kissed it instead. Oh my god, this boy is just, wow….

Throughout the training, I tried to avoid him, but he was staring at me all along. Climbing was harder than ever, because I could feel his eyes gazing at me. I couldn’t concentrate properly. I slipped again, and there was no one to catch my hands. I fell from  the wall. I prepared myself for the pain, but instead, I fell on something soft. I rolled over and I went pale as hell. I fell on Marcial.

“Hey!.. Greasyhead … Are you okay?” I panicked.  What if he was injured?

Luckily, he was able to sit up, and threw a grin on me.

“I didn’t know you wanted to use me as a landing place…” he groaned “but fine, then.…”

“No, not at all.  But … thank you for being a landing place for me.” I laughed nervously, while seeing him stand up as if I hadn’t fallen on him a minute earlier. To my surprise he stood up before me, and offered me his hand to help me rise.

“Thank you…” I was shocked.

We didn’t talk much until the end of the training, when I came out from the locker room, where he was waiting for me.

“What are you doing here? Are you waiting for someone?” I asked him, blushing.

“I was waiting for the Snail-girl, so perhaps I can accompany you home,” he responded with a charming smile. I felt butterflies in my stomach. 

“Ohhh….” I froze when I looked into his eyes through his glasses. It is said that the eyes are a mirror to one’s soul. This moment I was able to throw a glimpse right into Marcial’s soul. I saw a generally happy and joyful guy, who seemed to be very hurt on the inside. Probably a heartbreak.

“Well … I have nothing against it…” I stuttered, but inside, I was flying with happiness.

We walked home together, but not for the last time. After every training, Marcial accompanied me home. Then he started to pick me up after finishing school. My story with him happened twelve years ago and now, on this day, I am proud to call myself Madame Estelle Delacour.  

Issue 2:1 (Spring 2021)

Welcome to the first anniversary issue of Folyosó! This issue features reflections on walls, scenes of the absurd, speeches (with a few audio recordings), miniature stories, and art. In addition, please see the new pieces in the Folyosó Gallery. We welcome your readership and comments!

Letter from the Editor

What Is a Wall?

Absurdist Mini-Plays

Speeches (listed here by author and topic)

Story Hour (miniature stories)

Art

Submit to the Autumn 2021 issue!

Cover art by Lilla Kassai.

All of the contributors are students of the Varga Katalin Gimnázium in Szolnok, Hungary, except for the following seven, who attend the Lycée Sainte-Pulchérie in Istanbul, Turkey: Naz Arpacı, Zeynep Cicimen, Roza Kaplan, Buse Özcan, Derin Sakarya, Başak Ünal, and Selin Yelten.

Letter from the Editor


Folyosó began in the spring of 2020, when school in Hungary had gone online in response to COVID-19. After a brief interlude of in-person classes in the fall, we have been back online since mid-November, with ongoing hopes of returning to school. During this time, students have written essays, stories, short scenes, contest entries, and more; this issue features some of these winter fruits, along with Lilla Kassai’s art.

We proudly present our first international contest, for which students wrote pieces about imaginary inventions. The jury (Judit Kéri, Anikó Bánhegyesi, Nándor Szűcs, Edit Göröcs, and I) had a difficult time ranking the ten finalists; while we eventually chose winners, we are delighted to publish all ten pieces here. It was an honor to receive entries from the Lycée Sainte-Pulchérie in Istanbul, as well as from many Varga students; we hope to bring the two schools and others together for an online Folyosó event this spring.

For the scenes based on A Midsummer Night’s Dream, students were supposed to start with something in the play and take it in a surprising direction. The scenes published here—Áron Antal’s “Something Even Stranger,” Gréta Tóth’s “A Midsummer Night’s Gestalt,” Gergely Sülye’s “As from a Voyage,” Dorottya Turza’s “The Surprise of the Century,” Dávid Csáki’s “Let Him Roar Again,” Bertalan Szegi’s “Act 1, Scene 1,” and Zsófia Szabina Gávris’s “A Nice Article”—abound with wit, emotion, and surprise.

This is also the first time that we feature writers from Class 9.B (which I teach once a week); I have been impressed with this class’s imagination and look forward to publishing more of their work.

The winter issue does not include any writings from the Orwell project, but we may publish a few of them in the spring. For this project, Varga students joined with a class of tenth-graders at Columbia Secondary School to read and discuss Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four. It was a great experience; you can read much more about it on the project website.

Some of the pieces in this issue grapple with difficult problems: isolation, introspection, death and grief, political vanity, and disillusionment; others delight in books, friendship, everyday mishaps and mistakes, and visions of the future. The issue’s overall spirit brings to mind William Blake’s “Auguries of Innocence“: not just the famous lines

It is right it should be so 
Man was made for Joy & Woe 
And when this we rightly know 
Thro the World we safely go 

but much more. In this issue you will find a procession of experience, thoughts, questions: from Szabina Tamara Da Cunha Carvalho’s essay “The Problem with BLM Movements in Hungary” to Hunor Gangel’s “From Late to Early”; from Gergely Sülye’s “Transformation” to Lili Forgács’s “The Truth”; from Sándor Tor’s “Is This the Future?” to Zsófia Vona’s “A Dream Come True”; from Sándor Szakács’s “Challenging Times” to Adél Mihályi’s “Personalities”; from Bettina Czékus’s “Arbya” to Eszter Aletta Hevesi’s “The Story of Gen E”; from Tamás Takács’s “Michael the Caterpillar” to Botond Vass’s “The Shelter.”

We wish you good health, happy winter reading, and many returns! As ever, we welcome your submissions and comments.

Sincerely,

Diana Senechal
English and Civilization Teacher
Editor of Folyosó

About the Contributors


Áron Antal likes to spend his time in nature and in the bordering land around his town; interested in old machinery, cars and motorcycles especially, and things from the mid-nineteenth century to the 90s, as well as the lifestyle of that era, he is trying to include these in his stories and build them a plot, an important role. 

Szabina Carvalho wanted to vent about social justice warriors.

Dávid Csáki is no playwright, but a little flexibility never hurt anyone.

Bettina Czékus is a girl who will ignore you while she’s reading.

Lili Forgács is a sixteen-year-old girl with an enormous heart and even larger dreams.

My name is Hunor Gangel and I am just a normal high school student.

Zsófia Gávris is a sixteen-year-old girl who sees the positive side of everything and tries to find the beautiful things in her everydays.

Eszter Aletta Hevesi is a girl from Törökszentmiklós who is really interested in controversies and how to have a better lifestyle. She is always working on to be her best self and help everybody.

Kázmér Kaposvári: I would say I am rather creative and have ideas, but most important of all, I create something out of those ideas.

My name is Lilla Kassai, and my favourite pastime is drawing, painting, reading and listening to music. That’s where I gain my inspiration for my paintings and writings. I am looking for a type of future where I stay in connection with arts.

Viktória Kiss is a soon-to-be sixteen year old girl who advocates for a great balance between fitness and studying.

Defne Lal Koçer knows to get the joy out of life even when it’s wicked.

Ilona Králik is just a girl at the beginning of her life, but she already has big goals for her future.

I am Adél Mihályi, and I am not good at speaking, so I write.

Deniz Pala needs to invest more time in the real world than in fictional ones.

My name is Bernadett Sági and I am so excited, because this is the first time that my work has been published on the internet.

According to Gergely Sülye, the quarantine of 2020 is something you can conveniently use for some serious self-improvement at home.

Alexandra Süveges suggests: ‘be a curse, not cursed.’

Katalin Szabó is a girl who turned her can’ts into cans and her dreams into plans.

Lídia Szabó never knows what is going on but still manages to talk herself out of things.

Sándor Szakács is a guy from Martfű who tends to overcomplicate things.

Bertalán Szegi is just a 16-year-old boy who plays handball and tries to solve his homework.

Sándor Tor says, “I’m just a simple person who likes to try some new things.”

Gréta Tóth says, “Anything you say or do may be used in my story!”

Dorottya Turza: I’m like a book you have to read. A book can’t read itself to you. It doesn’t even know what it’s about.

Petra Varga: Dried roses, pictures, chansons, memories, poems. Rationalist….

Botond Vass is a guy who likes physical activities as well as reading books so he involves these in his everyday routines.

Zsófia Vona is a binge-watcher, who also likes to read amazing stories.

Máté Zupkó is a quiet and sarcastic guy, with low self-confidence, but who still achieved something.

Two Photographs

Lilla Kassai



Still Life with Fruit

Lilla Kassai