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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abundant. The older children confidently strut around aiming snowballs at anything that stands still long enough. Smaller children cower and scatter as they try to avoid the incoming missile attack. Girls scream and hide as they are bombarded with wave after wave of relentless snowballs. There is one young boy who can’t move. He is wrapped tight in so many clothes‚ that he can barely breathe. His scarf meets his hat leaving just a small slit for his eyes to warily peak out from. He can’t bend his legs
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Mike said that there was a great bar just off South Manchester. The road he made us take was an aged‚ unmaintained road with an uncountable amount of potholes and unnecessary speed brakes. (It’s not like anyone going to go more 40 mph on that!) After driving for an hour that seemed like forever we finally reached the placed he suggested. It was old‚ creaky shack in dire need of paint‚ a few metres off the main road‚ with a partially lit neon sign that seemed to flicker was if waiting to die. As
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The startling sounds of my alarm clock causes me to shoot forward from my bed. After my short lived panic I remember why I am waking up before the sun. I fumble through the darkness gathering my hunting gear before snatching up my shoes as I head towards the door. Pausing briefly in the cluttered mudroom‚ I pull my brown boots over my aching feet. I throw the door open and step into the misty fog. I look to my left and see the sun slowing coming over the horizon. I watch as it fades from a dark
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The sun was shining‚ the wind flowing through the air‚ and the waves were crashing onto the shoreline. The seagulls were roaming around trying to search for nourishment. As I step into the Atlantic Ocean I feel the sand between my toes and the water streaming around my body. I gazed at the horizon. The only thing I could see was the luminous sun and blue sky. The brisk water proceeds up my legs and to my torso as I stroll into the water. I submerged into the water and opened my eyes. All I could
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Germany’s crisp winter air crept beneath the door as the beige-brown blanket held me tight. My phone read 11:30 pm and my eyelids began to feel heavy and started to slide down like blinds on a window. My body jolted as my phone vibrated in my hand. Tyson had sent me a text. It sounds cliché but Tyson was my everything. He was as tall as a tree and whenever we walked together I felt like an ant next to a skyscraper. His eyes were made of little caramel candies and they sparkled when the sunlight hit
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Dazed and confused‚ I stood to my feet. After all these years I still did not know the rules of the game. He tossed me the ball as my team took their positions for free throws. I stumbled towards the free throw line‚ glancing at my teammates in confusion. Throughout entire basketball career‚ post
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thick and too short. After about 20 minutes of just working on the arm‚ I gave up. I was so frustrated and I just didn’t know how to make it look right. I looked over to my left to where another girl was working. I looked at her artwork and was amazed. Her picture of the glass bottle was phenomenal. The dark charcoal marks and highlights on the paper made it look so realistic. Her success encouraged me to keep on working. I wanted my artwork to be just as good as hers. After erasing‚ and redrawing
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friend‚ Tara‚ dying of laughter as my body tries to adjust to the temperature of the sparking turquoise waters. Surrounding us is vibrantly colored tropical plants and trees. Nothing compares to paradise like being with my best friend in The Bahamas. After Tara catches her breath from laughter‚ she jumps into the water so she can prepare her body for the snorkeling we are
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I stop at the edge of the graveyard. I am thoroughly equivocal about what to do. The wind whistles through the trees and the branches rattle the windows of a nearby building. My hands clutch the handlebars of my bike. I stare in the dark at the text message on my phone-- “ meet me in the graveyard at 9:00 and I’ll give you the photo.” My mind implores me to turn around‚ but my heart compels me to keep moving. The rain changes from a drizzle to a downpour. A whooshing sound startles me and I look
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