Sophia Munoz

Dec 20, 2024 | thebatt.com | Sophia Munoz

Her siblings are fast asleep in their beds, but Jessica Pardede is wide awake. Melodies often find the English junior at unexpected moments, keeping her restless until she captures them. Lyrics have become intertwined with her thoughts from a young age — making songwriting habitual. To Jessica, crafting an album as a full-time student seemed like the only natural response.

Sep 19, 2024 | thebatt.com | Ian Curtis |Sophia Munoz

As the weekend campus bustle eased with the setting sun, a moonlit celebration was just beginning. On Sept. 14, students quietly trickled onto Simpson Drill Field to attend NASA’s International Observe the Moon Night, hosted by Texas A&M’s Astronomy and Physics Department. With a few minutes left of twilight, the festivities began with student-led educational demonstrations and activities.

Nov 21, 2023 | entitymag.com | Robbie Wood |Sophia Munoz |Leslie Zemeckis

It was never supposed to go this far. She only meant to scare him. But now, as the coral Range Rover erupts into flames, and ashes swirl in the mild breeze, dwindling into the brisk November evening–with him inside of it–she knows she’s fucked. A suffocating, syrupy sweet fetor clouds her nostrils, courtesy of that deceptively gentle wind. Burning leather elicits tears from her eyes. Sour bile rises in her throat.

Nov 21, 2023 | entitymag.com | Robbie Wood |Sophia Munoz |Leslie Zemeckis

Her determination burned like a fiery sunset. Her ambition was loud like thunder. She had short, curly brown hair and soft, pale skin. She dressed like she owned the world in lace and bold details. She commanded a room when she walked into it. She was ambitious, open-minded, and passionate when it came to filmmaking. She knew she wanted to make history when she knocked on his door. Alice Guy-Blaché was born July 1st, 1873, in Saint-Mande, France.

Nov 21, 2023 | entitymag.com | Robbie Wood |Sophia Munoz |Leslie Zemeckis

Look, it’s not like body snatching had been her first choice. Julie d’Aubigny, fifteen years old and not usually found within Catholic cemeteries, set down her shovel and wiped the sweat from her brow. She listened for any hint of trouble, but the cemetery was as silent as the convent it bordered. Not that anyone had asked, but Julie’s first choice would have been to spend a happy eternity arm in arm with her beloved, strolling the streets of Marseilles sunburnt and drunk on each other’s company.