stop playing. As I set the ball up for one of my teammates‚ she plunged off the ground and spiked the ball over the net‚ but all of the sudden the ball was just about to hit the ground. My competitor dove into the sand and prevented the ball from hitting the ground. The other team passed the ball around and on their second set a girl sprung from the ground and spiked it over the net and the volleyball hit the ground on our side. Sighing‚ but keeping my head up I say‚ “We still got this team
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The colour black never represented me in any way‚ it had nothing to do with my nature‚ until now. Like an owl roaming around the lower east side of New York streets‚ we created the dark shadow of terror. Our masculine body armoured with a leather jacket and painted with absurd tattoos made society turn their heads towards the ground as we walk pass. As the sun goes down‚ the innocence of New York sleeps‚ while the predators hunt for their next victim. It was icy cold‚ yet we could bare it all.
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The lazy afternoon sun plants hot kisses on the nape of my neck as I drift up the garden path and towards the house. It’s the kind of heat that dries out your skin and chaps your lips. Towing an armful of bulky paper shopping bags‚ I slip through the side gate‚ shaded by the sweet smelling jasmine that climbs up the wooden fence palings. “Monet!” I shout‚ my eyes dart back and forth‚ surveying the empty yard. A heavy silence follows. My forehead prickles with worry when no little white dog with
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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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Viking-esk display? Hell if I know‚ I am honestly more focused on how her flame-like hair has begun to crackle and flow‚ very much like the growing fire around us. A shame that the egg shaped helm hides most of her face‚ I’m very eager to know all about this woman. Especially since I’ve yet to see one whose entire body has uncanny match of a man. Maybe if she were to wear a piece of armour more concealing‚ perhaps a piece of pristine plate‚ I would have almost mistaken her for a man‚ but no‚ there
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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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making everything around Brendon and I dead quiet.We stood there our eyes wide in panic as we looked at each other frantically.We doubted the scream was from a teen tangler...but that could be a possibility. Brendon being the guy he was forgot all about his rave ache and stood in front of me protectively his eyes
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to the entrance the louder and booming the sound of partying was and to our astonishment we the place was flooding with drunken people celebrating whatever they’re happy about. The best part is that the main portion of the club was underground. As we partied on‚ burning the midnight oil‚ we began becoming drunk. I don’t know about the two of them‚ but I certainly noticed‚ I couldn’t walk in a straight line anymore and I barely knew what I was saying. We practically did not know anyone there and
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feeling of anxiety drip down my spine‚ feeling the outside world getting larger‚ and myself getting smaller. I shake it off as I begin to turn and enter the stage-room door. I hear the crowd cheering‚ I sit down at the keys microphone to my mouth about to play‚ when the crowd covered in stares becomes a pastel colored memory in the side-view of my vision. I feel peace come to myself‚ I am relaxed as the keys begin harmonize together. I don’t feel the need to drown out my anxieties in fantasies‚ the
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and signals for me to get out of the car. I groan‚ knowing that I am in for a long practice‚ and slowly drag myself out of the front seat. I lug my hockey bags out of the trunk‚ and they become another nagging reminder of the grueling workout I’m about to face. My dad speeds away and I’m left alone‚ staring at the large‚ brightly lit building looming over me. The rink is in a low-income area‚ and beyond the cold‚ hard metal fence lies a dangerous neighborhood. The night air is warm and still‚
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