also scouring the ground for a morsel of shade. The leaves appeared to be weeping and begging for night to creep in. I ended up sitting under an elder spruce that towered over the yard‚ and I could smell all the scents of spring. It appeared that summer was around the corner and was taking the world by surprise for there are pools of water where skiffs of snow stood proud this morning‚ but for me I just waddled back inside to take advantage of Mom’s fresh
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The days were ticking down. Halloween was now less than a week away and the need for decoration was essential. In a town named Exitium‚ about thirty minutes away from the California-Oregon border‚ Halloween was a huge thing. Every year there was a decorating contest. The winner for five years in a row was a woman named Sarah Smith. This woman had short‚ black‚ bouncy hair. She was a single mother and had a foster child‚ Harris. While Harris was at school‚ Sarah was rushing around stores and malls
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Without hesitation‚ riding in a bus is the most boring‚ gloomy places I can imagine being in since it has haunted consecutive saturday mornings. I sat eerily awaiting the early 6:00 bus. The hard cheap metal bench rests uneasy beneath me. I loom in darkness seeing as the rising sun hid fearfully beneath the bleak clouds. The only lights in sight are are the dim streetlights across from me and the faint glow from my phone display. Weakly off in the distance the sound of the crosswalk signal rings
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also scouring the ground for a morsel of shade. The leaves appeared to be weeping and begging for night to creep in. I ended up sitting under an elder spruce that towered over the yard‚ and I could smell all the scents of spring. It appeared that summer was around the corner and was taking the world by surprise for there are pools of water where skiffs of snow stood proud this morning‚ but for me I just waddled back inside to take advantage of Mom’s fresh
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shoulder and motions towards the lake‚ as I now see the fireworks have started. I grab my drink and jacket‚ pull myself up from the chair‚ and start walking towards the lake. The cold dew on my bare feet is a surprising but a refreshing brake from the hot waves from the fire. The cool breeze feels wonderful on my arms and neck‚ but is ever more apparent on my flushed‚ pink checks. Its cool but refreshing as I take a deep breath of the clear air‚ free of smoke. We find an open stop at the far end of
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I was breathing heavily‚seeing dark figures sprinting towards me out of the corner of my eye.The night air was frigid‚making my skin a pale lifeless color.Heavy footsteps hit the cold pavement as I ran for dear life taking deep breaths‚my heart beating out of my chest. “Get over here runt!”‚one of the taller ones of the gang yelled grabbing out for the back of my leather jacket.Before he could grasp the black leather I dodged his strong hand turning into an alleyway.As dark and gloomy as it was
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delved into the written word I began to recognize writing as a powerful tool for expression. I turned to poetry and short stories to capture childhood moments‚ expanding my vocabulary and becoming skilled at transferring raw emotions and ideas onto paper. My parents encouraged me to make frequent trips to the library‚ and I often staggered home beneath the weight of a pile of novels. When I entered high school as a published author and poet‚ my writing continued to mature. Although I still marveled
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The air is thick and heavy even away from the shoreline. As she steps outside her hair becomes a frizzy fuzz ball. Smells of salt wafts up so strong it burns her nose hairs. Taking a breath in she lets the humid air fill her lungs. She walks across the scorching sand until the chilly water brings her bare feet some relief. Sand kisses in between her toes‚ sliding away only after she lifts her foot to take another step. Just above the sand‚ the water twirls it in a hypnotic dance overtop her perfectly
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muscle in my body ached‚ and the pressure on my leg caused by the hand just intensified my agony. I couldn’t breathe‚ and I was beginning to cough up blood profusely. What little air I had in my lungs got caught in my throat‚ and I began to choke. Hot‚ salty tears burned my eyes‚ and they slipped down my cheeks quickly. “Please‚” I pleaded meekly‚ “please make it stop.” The hand on my leg had gone to my face‚ and I felt gentle hands brush away my tears. “Stay with me‚” a familiar voice whispered
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My buckling legs trudge towards the fireplace to resume my task.The aching in my back resorts to unbearable as my hand reaches for the metal bucket.I squeeze the side of my rib in hopes of lessening the pain but it gets worse. It gets really worse. Unable to bear it any longer‚my knees buckle and I fall on the hardwood floor.My hands grip my sides‚hoping to stop the sudden pain‚but my attempts are futile. My bones crack as I crouch down in agony.But I know I can’t stay on the floor any longer
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