DigitalCommons@C.O.D.

In my paper, I have explored the various causes that caused the great inflation in the United States during the 70s. The Great Inflation was a period when prices of everything around in the economy were increasing and people were having a tough time managing to pay for their expenses, given their fixed income. A recent increase in gas prices and other commodities as the lockdown lifted drew me curious to know what was causing this and thus I chose the 1970s to research upon. I would be focusing on the theoretical errors, political errors and role of economics that caused the inflation and made it persist for about two decades.
Sponsor:  Michelle Moor

Shah, Shamak Mahesh

What Caused the Great inflation in the United States During the 70s?

This essay examines the internal and external influences of Victor Hugo\u27s 1862 novel Les Misérables. Les Misérables was written over a period of 17 years as a result of the great upheavals and struggles of the 19th century that Hugo observed throughout his life. Far from only being a social novel, Les Misérables incorporates Hugo\u27s religious philosophy as its framework and recontextualizes the French Revolution and the ensuing tumultuous 19th century as part of a greater narrative of the French nation and the evolution of humanity.
Faculty Sponsor: Timothy Henningse

Lashmet, Fiona

Origins of Les Miserables

Garcia, Victoria

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 2 Spring 2022 Article 54 
Spring 5-1-2022 
Nightmare Ink 
Victoria Garcia 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Garcia, Victoria (2022) "Nightmare Ink," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44: No. 2, Article 54. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss2/54 
This Artwork is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It 
has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
The Bathroom Jester 
 Lydia Avery 
 
Thick, damp air rises to the ceiling
The jester has the courtroom reeling
Toes break through to the surface
Why today, what is its purpose
The jester likes to laugh and poke
Suffering always the butt of his joke
Fingertips prune-like raisins
Clear water meant to wash away sins
The Jester pries into dark green eyes
That are red and worn from all their lies
Lies of joy and contentment
The lie that they appreciate the sentiment
He gets beneath the peach skin
Sees the truth that lies within
Within the heart and soul
He sets it ablaze with a match and some coal
The King and his court point and laugh
The witch is dead, in her red and boiling bath
Nightmare Ink, 
Victoria Garcia
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English

Nightmare Ink

Steciak, Kelly

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 44 
Number 2 Spring 2022 Article 66 
Spring 5-1-2022 
Misunderstood 
Kelly Steciak 
College of DuPage 
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Recommended Citation 
Steciak, Kelly (2022) "Misunderstood," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 44: No. 2, Article 66. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol44/iss2/66 
This Artwork is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It 
has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Sinking Ship
Ben Ryles
There’s a hole in the boat
And we’re both going down
He’s got the life vest
While I’m gonna drown
A hole in the boat
He’s got the plug
He’s just sitting there laughing
And looking all smug
There’s a hole in our boat
With no one around
Everyone’s moved
And they’ve all swam for town
There’s a hole in this boat
I stuck my finger in
But the salt in the water
Eats away at my skin
There’s a hole in my boat
And we’re both going down
He’s got the life vest
While I’m gonna drown Misunderstood, 
Kelly Steciak
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Misunderstood

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 45 
Number 1 Fall 2022 Article 4 
Fall 12-1-2022 
About 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
(2022) "About," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 45: No. 1, Article 4. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/4 
This Prefatory Note is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at 
DigitalCommons@COD. It has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of 
DigitalCommons@COD. For more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
About
The Prairie Light Review is the liberal arts journal of  the College of  
DuPage. This biannual journal seeks to showcase the diverse work 
produced by creative individuals surrounding us. Our publication exists 
entirely because of  our loyal community, as we only accept submissions 
from District 502 and rely on our team of  student editors to edit, format, 
and produce the literary journal. Each piece submitted is evaluated 
anonymously in order to ensure objectivity. 
Join
To join our Editorial team, enroll in English 2210 for the upcoming 
semester! 
Direct additional inquiries to: 
 Adam Fotos, Faculty Advisor 
 fotosa@cod.edu
 630-942-3167
Rolling Submissions
The Prairie Light Review accepts submissions throughout the academic 
year. We accept submissions of  any in the following categories: original 
fiction, nonfiction, essays, drama, poetry, graphic essays, black and 
white and color photography, and 2D and 3D artwork of  any medium. 
If  you are interested, please submit all work to:
 prairielightreviewsubmissions@gmail.com
Scholarship Info
The Budilovsky Literary Scholarship provides one $500 award per 
semester in conjunction with being published in the College of  DuPage’s 
Prairie Light Review. To be considered for this award, the entrant must 
remain a student at COD the following semester and have written a 
quality piece of  any type (i.e., essay, poem, short story, etc.). Preference 
will be made to pieces that are autobiographical in nature.
More at:
      
    
                         @cod_plr
        prairielightreview.com 
cod.edu/student_life/publications/prairie_light_review
1
et al.: About
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About

Corpora, Syd

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 45 
Number 1 Fall 2022 Article 41 
Fall 12-1-2022 
Travel 
Syd Corpora 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Corpora, Syd (2022) "Travel," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 45: No. 1, Article 41. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/41 
This Selection is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It 
has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Travel
Syd Corpora
And as the 
Earth wastes away
Glutted with people
Spoiled by travel
And free will
That refuse to change
For the sake of  everyone
And with free will
Search for a ride
Away from rot, on hover-crafts
Quit the earth instead
Just think of
Planes, cars, buses
Buses and boats beep
Rockets and ships beep
Same sound- let’s
Let ourselves get caught in the visit
What are humans? The
Gods of  false science?
Our bones the only museum
Our guilty hands the
Only proof  of  the ride
Do we know where the ride will
Bring us? To take
From the stars just
Like we exhausted the earth in moments
When do we learn to say “no”
Lost in human traffic
Pushed by human want
The urge to 
Run, travel
The instinct to 
Trust Outerspace
Trust the stars, visit
The beyond the 
Home of  the new
The home of  clean air
Clean air and 
a distance, a space
Between us and the museum
The rot we left on 
Earth in hope of  the
Virgin soil of  the moon.
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Travel

Mukhtar, Khalid

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 45 
Number 1 Fall 2022 Article 63 
Fall 12-1-2022 
Yours Truly 
Khalid Mukhtar 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Mukhtar, Khalid (2022) "Yours Truly," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 45: No. 1, Article 63. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/63 
This Selection is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It 
has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Yours Truly
Khalid Mukhtar
It was a different time.
There were no accidental key presses
or swipes, or acts of  feckless fat-fingering.
And gestures weren’t reduced to fingertip gymnastics.
There was enough paper, enough ink and the innocent audacity
to write down our feelings in long winding sentences
that began with “Dear” or “Dearest”, or “My dear, dear, darling.”
I miss those cliché beginnings.
They held meaning for me.
Someone had taken the time
to address me with a term of  endearment.
I couldn’t care less that everyone else used those same terms.
I simply appreciated that they weren’t missing.
I loved how when the writer ran out of  space, and chose
to cram one more thought in the margins, unaware
that it would beget more thoughts, and more, until
the letter, finally complete with marginalia,
looked like the treasure map that it truly was.
If  you paid close attention, you could just play back
the actual scene of  composition, feel the distractions,
the afterthoughts and the gray comedy of  being
human. You could detect mood. Even madness.
And “P.S.” had all the meaning and excitement
of  a genuinely forgotten note added just in time, like:
P.S. Kiss the baby for me.
But by far, the single most powerful message a letter bore for me
was its confession of  crumples witnessing that, at some point,
it wasn’t meant to be sent.
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Yours Truly

Klein, Allison

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 45 
Number 1 Fall 2022 Article 68 
Fall 12-1-2022 
A Little Romance 
Allison Klein 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Klein, Allison (2022) "A Little Romance," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 45: No. 1, Article 68. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/68 
This Artwork is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It 
has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
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A Little Romance

Bishop, Bee

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 45 
Number 1 Fall 2022 Article 70 
Fall 12-1-2022 
Blood Stained Glass, an excerpt 
Bee Bishop 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Bishop, Bee (2022) "Blood Stained Glass, an excerpt," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 45: No. 1, Article 70. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/70 
This Selection is brought to you for free and open access by the College Publications at DigitalCommons@COD. It 
has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Blood Stained Glass, an exerpt
Bee Bishop
     “Irene! Stop being a drag!” 
Red lacquered nails and thin fingers reached across the car to grasp the 
book from Irene’s hand. The palm-sized, tawny leather covered book 
was snapped shut. Irene didn’t fret; she had memorized the page, para-
graph, and line that she had previously been reading.
     “Mon amie,” Irene scolded gently. “That was not very ladylike. I 
expected more from one of  Hollywood’s best actresses.”
     The starlet shrugged and tossed the book across the back seat of  the 
limo carelessly. Geraldine Howard was one of  the most fabulous women 
in the West. Dripping in wealth from her numerous silver screen ap-
pearances alongside Monroe, Hepburn, and Taylor, Geraldine was truly 
an “it-girl” of  the time. 
     “Irene darling,” the starlet cooed. “I’ve invited you to this dance to 
relax and unwind.”
     “I thought you were taking me as a ‘thank you’ for getting your 
brother cleared of  a murder charge?”
     “Well, yes of  course– that as well. But I imagine a private investiga-
tor in such high demand, such as yourself, could use the time to herself.”
     Irene sighed, pressing her temple against the window of  the limo. 
The sun had started to set behind the hill and the massive house on top 
of  it. The structure only grew as the limo approached closer and closer. 
     When the driver had finally stopped and opened the door for the two 
women, Gerladine handed Irene a mask. 
     “C’est quoi?”
     “It’s a masquerade darling. You have to wear it.”
     Irene curled her lip at the mask. 
     “I refuse to wear it.”
     “Darling please. It’s the entertainment for the evening.”
     “Non. I refuse to deceive any person, regardless of  what it will be 
used for.”
Geraldine sighed.
     “Still you have to at least have it in your hand.”
     With a firm push, she forced the insulting mask into Irene’s hands 
and stepped out of  the car. It was a smooth silk that would cover the 
area around her eyes and her bridge, edged with a black lace and gold 
stud arching like eyebrows. With a huff  of  frustration, Irene stepped 
out of  the car. 
     “Et puis zut.”
     The whole point of  a masquerade is anonymity. A mask to shield 
you from the expectations and responsibilities that come with your ev-
eryday face.
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     Geraldine wasn’t wearing a mask. Not really. Her whole face was cov-
ered by an intricate mask painted a midnight blue with lace gold trim 
contouring the slopes and curves of  her face. Emerald and ruby inlays 
were stars that glittered in the light with each turn of  her head. It was 
the single most expensive, gaudy, and extravagant mask in the room. 
Maybe even the whole world. 
     But that wasn’t what gave it away.
     What betrayed her identity was the enormous necklace collaring her 
throat. She had been bragging about it for months, claiming she was 
“just waiting for the right moment to wear it.” The smallest diamonds 
were the size of  dimes and the largest were the size of  half-dollars. The 
diamonds cascaded down her neck like a waterfall and settled heavily 
on her chest. The end of  the necklace dipped below the neckline of  her 
dress. Her dress, of  course, was a fine velvet that looked like a forest in 
the early morning: misty, murky, yet glistening in the light. The blue-
green mist on the bodice of  the dress swirled into a deep silver on the 
bottom.   Her shoulders dipped and Geraldine was clearly fighting to 
keep her posture up against the weight of  the necklace. 
     But of  course that was only one of  two conversations stirring around 
the party that night. The other one was that ‘silly little French detec-
tive’ — lord forbid any of  them try to remember that her parents were 
from Belgium— ‘and all her mannerisms.’ 
     Irene hardly paid attention to any of  them. What caught her atten-
tion was the silk wrapped woman sitting near the bar. She was puffing 
smoke through her cigarette holder which was wrapped up in her glove 
covered hands. She stared at the room with wide eyes, out of  her ele-
ment, and clearly trying to take in as much as she could. 
     Irene, the tall woman she was, strolled across the room in a few steps. 
The woman’s eyes landed on her immediately.
     “Pardonnez-moi madame,” Irene started gently. “Would you care for 
a dance?”
     Silk-gown looked her up and down.
     “I’m quite alright where I am. ‘Mfraid I can’t dance.”
     “Nonsense, everyone can dance, madame,” Irene said. “It’s whether 
or not they dance well, that is the question.”
     The woman gave a short bark of  a laugh. 
     “Well then, I don’t dance very well.”
     “Why don’t you let me be the judge of  that madame…?”
     “Please, mademoiselle,” she smiled. “Tiffany Copani.”
     “Irene Dupin.”
     “Like the detective from Belgium?”
     “Oui. The very same.”
     Tiffany, as if  suddenly intrigued, shifted closer. “Is it true that 
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The Prairie Light Review, Vol. 45, No. 1 [2022], Art. 70
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you once prevented an art theft by creating a fake auction to catch the 
thieves?”
     Irene shrugged. “I believe the papers reported the police caught the 
thieves that way. I was merely in the same room.”
     Tiffany snorted softly. 
     “Yeah right, like those guys could figure out which way is north with 
a compass.”
Irene then noticed a ruby necklace around Tiffany’s neck, no bigger 
than the size of  a wedding ring.
     “C’est tres bizarre, I thought I saw that necklace on another woman 
this evening.”
     Tiffany’s hand shot up to cover the necklace. She pulled on it gently 
so that she could see it. 
     “Ah well, it’s a very common necklace,” she said. “I should take it off  
before Ms. Patterson gets upset.”
     A crash sounded from the other side of  the room and Irene looked 
over to see a tall man, his face red and pruneish, as he shouted at Ger-
aldine.
     “You stupid bitch! You’re going to regret this!”
     Two of  the waitstaff  forced him off  of  Geraldine, who barely looked 
flustered against the threats.
     “I mean it! You’re going to wish you stayed out of  it and didn’t see 
anything! I’ll cut your eyes out of  your dead body if  I have to!” With 
that final threat, and four more waitstaff, the man was pushed out of  
the room. 
     “C’est qui?”
     “That’s Eugene Newbold,” Tiffany answered. “Big Hollywood hot-
shot. He makes good movies but has the worst attitude I’ve ever seen. 
Rumor has it, he’s cheating on his wife. If  he gets caught, that puts him 
in hot water. His father-in-law runs the studio he works for and I doubt 
he’s going to want to keep him around.”
     Irene studied Geraldine closely. She didn’t seem worried about the 
foul-tempered man spewing threats. She nonchalantly looked around 
the room without a care in the world. 
     “She is not scared of  him?” Irene asked.
     “Who’s to say?” Tiffany responded. “Geraldine Howard’s known for 
keeping her cool.”
     Irene turned to glance quickly at Tiffany.
     “How do you know so much about these things? You are not accumu-
lated in this crowd so why do you know so many things?”
     Tiffany seemed startled at the question but shrugged.
     “I just hear things. That’s all.”
     C’est des conneries. But Irene let it go for now. By the time she looked 
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Bishop: Blood Stained Glass, an excerpt
Published by DigitalCommons@COD, 2022
by at Geraldine, something had clearly changed with her. Her face was 
stark and her eyes wide. If  Irene looked closer, she could see Geraldine’s 
hands shaking ever so slightly. If  Irene narrowed her eyes enough, she 
could catch the glimpse of  the back waitstaff  uniform swiftly walking 
away from Geraldine. 
     “Well I must go,” Tiffany said. “It was lovely meeting you Ms. Dupin.”
     “S’il vous plait mademoiselle, Irene.”
     Tiffany sent her a suggestively wicked grin. “Irene. Good evening.”
     As Tiffany darted off, Geraldine quickly walked up to Irene.
     “Can you believe the nerves of  some people?” she spat. “Absolutely 
atrocious.”
     “You are talking about Monsior Newbold?”
     Geraldine shot a look at Tiffany, seeming pleasantly startled for the 
first time in the evening.
     “Eugene? Oh no, I can handle him.”
    “C’est vrai? He was screaming very loudly earlier. And I have heard he 
has an attitude that is… oh-how do you say? Très affreux.”
     “Ha!” Geraldine’s laugh was harsh and hyena-like. “He’s about as 
harmful as a new born baby. Believe me, Irene darling. I can handle 
him.”
Devona Barnes.  Faith. Digital photograph
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The Prairie Light Review, Vol. 45, No. 1 [2022], Art. 70
https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/70


Blood Stained Glass, an excerpt

Mendez, Angelo

The Prairie Light Review 
Volume 45 
Number 1 Fall 2022 Article 84 
Fall 12-1-2022 
Pure Form (PUFO) 
Angelo Mendez 
College of DuPage 
Follow this and additional works at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr 
Recommended Citation 
Mendez, Angelo (2022) "Pure Form (PUFO)," The Prairie Light Review: Vol. 45: No. 1, Article 84. 
Available at: https://dc.cod.edu/plr/vol45/iss1/84 
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has been accepted for inclusion in The Prairie Light Review by an authorized editor of DigitalCommons@COD. For 
more information, please contact orenick@cod.edu. 
Angelo Mendez. Pure Form (PUFO). Mixed Media Sculpture
70
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Mendez: Pure Form (PUFO)
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