“Our land hasn’t grown any crops for the last 3 years. We’ve got no money since we sold our pigs. I don’t know how much longer we can all survive here‚” I hear Ma say to Pa on the other side of my bedroom door. We have been going along with very little food since the start of the droughts in 1931. I know everyone’s suffering and has been for the last few years but we never wanted to admit it. Hearing those words out of my mother’s mouth made my head spin. It was as if reality finally hit me. It
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It was a cold‚ bitter‚ sunny morning mid January. The previous night’s snowstorm had given hell‚ twenty-four new untouched inches were left on the ski mountain waiting for my friends and I. As the doors of the gondola close‚ an abundance of fog disrupted our vision. The doors opened once again after what felt like a lifetime. There we stood‚ looking down to the end of the run as we began to slowly make our way through the remarkably light powder. The snow was heavily up until a single patch of ice
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Hnub 93 The scalding screech of the snow stretched out in an endless fog. The weather has remained a thick blanket of snow for the last week or so‚ and our food rations were painstakingly low. We’ve been traveling for 93 hunbs already‚ and we still haven’t reached suitable location for settling. As I sit here near the flicker of the magikó fos that has kept our thawj warm‚ lit the night and protected us from the dangerous trómoi of the wild‚ I stared out into the night sky and subconsciously reverted
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In a trance I watched the mushrooms sway and dance slowly‚ then saw a few puffball mushrooms circling the larger one. They seemed to grow slowly as they swayed‚ already reaching the size of an apple. The sweet smell caught my attention again. Stepping slowly closer to the mushrooms one of the puffball mushrooms seemed to explode‚ dandelion seed like pollen drifted on the air toward me. I turned my head to avoid breathing them in but many of them landed gently on my exposed skin. Wherever they touched
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Stubbles Deep within the Chocolah Jungle lies a community of chimpanzees. The first time the small chimp Lulu opened her eyes and looked up‚ she saw her smiling mother. Her short brown hair was swaying in the soft breeze. Next to her mother was her father smiling as well but‚ with a hint of sadness in his eyes. She reached up her tiny hand already curious about the cause of his troubled look. She was distracted by a whoop of a chimp swinging past in the trees and barely caught a glimpse of its
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“This is a sorry sight” It was always for her. I couldn’t take it‚ I was jealous. She went behind my back and I knew. Her effortless smile‚ glossy‚ silky brown hair and eyes so dark‚ that they can see to the pits of your soul. Lips that have a shine like polished glass. I couldn’t take it. Driving. Witnessing my last glimpses of life. The trees violently stumbling side to side in the gale force winds. The clouds discolouring: from a snow white to a mouldy grey‚ shield encasing its inhabitants
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The first time Monsieur came to call‚ I was nervous‚ but vowed to Angelique that I would not show it. Mon père invited Monsieur de Lafontaine to our last barbeque of the season‚ which was usually a small affair with twenty to thirty invited guests. I alone‚ was to entertain Louis de Lafontaine in the sitting room that morning for an hour prior to other guests arriving. That would give him ample time to talk one on one with me and then he would know whether he wanted to pursue a relationship or not
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The Spiral of… Darkness I looked at my mom‚ then at the seat next to her. Dad couldn’t come because of a meeting‚ but I didn’t care! I couldn’t hold myself together‚ I felt like I was going to explode into little sparkles of excitement. My excitement is about to burst out of my chest. I’m going on an airplane! Then I heard a horrendous sound like nails on a chalkboard‚ my body jerked forward‚ I smelt the metal nasty smell of blood‚ lastly darkness closed in on me‚ tight. I tried to open my eyes
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My owner doesn’t want me...she never cared. I have been feeling lonely and still do. For over a month‚ I have been hanging in that dark and messy closet at the back of the classroom. I smell awful! Want to know how awful? I reek of all the student’s body odour after they have come inside from recess! I feel as if I am tattered‚ worn down‚ that my threads are coming undone‚ and my colour is fading. Actually‚ maybe I am already. To be honest‚ I actually smell like a “Stinking Bishop”. Maybe that’is
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Five other women were here for the weekend‚ two of them with their partners and the other three alone‚ like Ariel. The two accompanied women were alone now‚ anyway‚ because this particular session was only for the infertile women‚ a chance to vent in private. They sat in a circle in the incense-laden room‚ and the conversation leader – a licensed therapist named Cindy – held up what she referred to as the "talking stick‚" what looked like a mini totem pole. Like the stick‚ Cindy was thin and knobby
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