slapping a ten dollar bill on the counter‚ attempting to exist the store as soon as possible. The sound of police sirens repeat like a broken record player‚ while the snow absorbs the red and blue hue. The officer gets out of his car yelling‚ “Put your hands in the air!” Micah ignores the pleas and continues walking thinking the command was for someone else. Brusquely‚ someone grabs a hold of his neck‚ throwing him down against the frosty sidewalk. His bag falls and the medicine escapes onto the
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thick oily skin like the flesh of a ferocious warrior. Each tentacle was a string of spaghetti‚ smush‚ and mesh. And from the great breathing cage in the chest there was a tiny head that popped out‚ a head that would examine you and look deep into your soul‚ while the snake neck coiled. And the arm itself‚ a ton of sculptured stone‚ stayed low to the surface easily below the population. Its mouth gaped‚ exposing a row of squid like tentacles popped out. His eyes seemed to be inexistent‚ tiny stones
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When you discard your shopping cart‚ do you ever think about the people returning it from the parking lot to the store? Well rain or shine‚ one man has been doing it for over a decade and at 81-years-old. "And I love it. I just love coming here and mingling with the young folks and just doing what comes natural to me‚" said Lester Sowell. At 81-years-old‚ Lester Sowell shows no signs of slowing down. The Air Force Veteran and Horseheads native always has a smile on his face as he collects carts
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Once there was a pair of socks that belonged to a little boy. The socks liked the little boy‚ but one of them was not happy. This sock was tired of its same old routine and longed for adventure. It wanted to see what life was like on the other side of the world. Little did this poor sock know what its future would soon hold. It all started on a cold winter day. The little boy’s mother was doing her laundry as usual. She had just finished washing the clothes and was hanging them out on the clothesline
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The red sphere of fury. Ever since day one of the sport‚ that’s how I referred to the kickball. It never changed. I have been terrified of this faded red ball coming anywhere near my face‚ so I never bothered to run for a catch‚ or even really try. That’s probably why I was never any good at sports. I was okay at tennis‚ and maybe even moderately good at cross country. But anything that involved me catching a ball‚ you might as well already say I lost. So naturally‚ when I ran up to kick the ball
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When we returned to the driver station there was an air of nervous energy. We did a little dance to appease the crowd when our team was announced. I tried to give a little pep talk to our ragtag band of nerds‚ “Is everyone ready for the game of your life?! We are going to win this and bring home a blue banner! Okay‚ here’s our game plan‚ score more points than the other team.” I don’t think this really did anything to boost our team’s ego. We stood there watching the countdown till the game
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"Take care of yourself‚ okay?" she warned. "ShadowClan can be pretty rough on trespassers." She flashed a good-natured smirk. Sasha gave a quiet nod‚ touching her nose to her friend’s cheek. "Thank you‚ and good luck with your patrol‚" she whispered. Russetfur dipped her head before rejoining her clanmates. Sasha watched them leave‚ letting out a little breath. Russetfur would tell Tigerstar no doubt‚ and he’d come looking. But Sasha wouldn’t let him find her kits. When
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It started off like any other day. It was a Saturday morning and I had gotten up extra early that day. I took a shower‚ got dressed‚ and put my make-up on in preparation. I was heading out to the nearby town of Attleboro. It was there that I would start my first day volunteering at the Food Kitchen of Hebron. After a thirty-minute ride‚ I had arrived. I walked into the building nervous about volunteering. I started off by wrapping bread loaves‚ bagels‚ and donuts in plastic wrap for the homeless
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one for any unfathomable emergency he could face. Mr. Sen wasn’t an alcoholic‚ at least that’s what he kept telling himself after every bottle‚ every single night. One could sympathize with him‚ albeit‚ his career took a toll on his heavy body‚ his short‚ bulky neck‚ tea bags around his eyes‚ displayed every passerby of his nocturnal sleeping habits and late working hours. In almost surreal contrast‚ Zoya stood lavishly beside Mr. Sen; her eternal youthful body with the firmness of a fully grown woman
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I’m standing right at the edge of what it seems like the end. My little toes hug the sides of the edge‚ begging not to take one more step closer. I stare into the calm blue beast beneath me and it stares right back. I could tell that the beast knew how scared and nervous I was. I cautiously dipped my right foot into the water; big toe first and the rest followed. “There is no way I can do this‚” I thought to myself. “The water is not the right temperature‚ the lifeguard is not going to help me‚ my
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