idiot! Why the hell am I still with you Ben?” Snow barked‚ her voice pierces through the air. I left my girlfriend and headed for the car without a word‚ the echo of each step I make towards the doors that lead outside resonate inside my head as if the sound was mocking my emptiness. Even as I closed the door‚ she could still be heard swearing and throwing mess around. I’m sick of fighting with her every second of the day‚ but the thought of Snow leaving‚ well it just tears me in two. “Where did we
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you could hardly move around. The supermarkets were packed like sardines in a can. When we went back home‚ everyone was preparing for this powerful storm they say was coming. My dad and brothers were nailing ply boards to the windows and some of the doors. I remembered hearing my dad calling my brothers saying‚ “Get some blocks and put on top of the roof.” Our roof was made of zinc. Most of the homes back then were made from zinc. Then Hurricane Gilbert came. It was horrible‚ it was devastating. The
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o’clock in the morning at Liverpool train station‚ the busiest hour throughout the whole day‚ it’s also known as the rush hour. Trains of all imaginable colours gradually draw to a halt‚ causing a slightly burned smell from the brakes. As the automatic doors fly open‚ continuous flows start of people shoving and pushing‚ rushing to get off into the already crowded station. The noise of the tannoy is hidden beneath the murmur of the crowds of people. Mothers franticly scan for their lost children‚ while
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of Idaho. The jagged‚ irregular peaks of the ridges surrounding the lakes form the horizon. Mt Cramer towers over the rest at an elevation of 10‚715 feet‚ the second highest mountain in the range. Each of the three lakes has a short outflow into the next‚ eventually reaching the South fork of the Payette River. The drainage from the upper lake tumbles over a twenty foot cliff‚ forming a stunning waterfall and a rewarding site for the weary backpacker. The lakes appear as though there is a massive sheet
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The sun shone down brightly as Tyler and Zoe pulled into the parking lot. Its bright rays reflected by the white snow covering the trees around them. The sound of their doors opening and closing scared the few birds left in the forest. Their speedy escape shook the tree limbs. Their rustling mixed with the flapping of wings created a torrent of sound in this peaceful place. “It looks amazing‚” Zoe’s voice sounded harsh to Tyler. The last few miles of the ride they had been in near silence.
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project by its deadline. You’re frustrated and want to get home. You stroll into the subway station and board the train en route to your house. You take a seat at the back of the train and just sit there with anguish on your mind. The train shuts its doors and the train starts moving forward. It’s a chilly winter evening and there’s a thunderstorm brewing outside. The wind is fierce‚ ricocheting bullets of water onto the outside of the train’s windows‚ only to splatter into minuscule droplets of rain
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The plaid shirt was covering my tank top‚ the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the collar soaked with sweat. The faded red had been stained a dark crimson from the sweat pouring off me. I threw another bale onto the hayrack‚ straw getting caught in my shirt. I grabbed the open front of my shirt and shook free the straw. I rubbed the sleeve of the plaid shirt across my brow‚ to wipe away the sweat. I grabbed the final bale off the last hay rack of the day and threw it over the side‚ towards where
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Absolutely nothing in this known world can break the silence—the room was lifeless. The floorboard painfully cries under the teacher’s fantastic high-heeled shoes; it invades the monastic stillness. Under the scrawls of a madman‚ written in a jet-black marker that has seen the end of its days a long time ago‚ slivers of the once pure whiteboard remains. My eyes dart towards the window as I stare at the barren tree branches; they shiver‚ afraid‚ in the thick cold and velvety air of winter. As my stoic
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now and I’d still love her‚ he thinks‚ What a fool; can’t even trust my own head around a pretty girl. Smooth sax and piano is marred by the skipping of a disk in the room across the hall and laughter and soft amber light spills under the heavy oak door; the telltale signs of yet another couple retiring from the celebration. Shh‚ the man mouths‚ raising a finger to his lips and winking at her with those dark eyelashes and a mischievous gleam in his eyes‚ bright in the dim library. They are past the
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heavy footsteps pounding on the back porch and the kitchen door slamming startled Dawn out of her thoughts. She blinked a few times‚ feeling slightly confused. The sun had apparently set sometime in the last hour‚ and the lack of light left the living room bathed in the bluish glow of the television with flickering images dancing along the furniture and walls. The cooking show she had watched had been replaced by a new episode of America’s Next Top Model without her noticing. Dawn sighed‚ pulled back
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