I woke up one April morning with the chickadees chirping rapidly in the tree branches. I threw my pants and socks on and rushed down the stairs as the smell of fresh bread assaulted my nose. Mom was already awake and greeted me with a slice of crispy toast‚ the butter was perfectly melted and seeped into the crust one squeeze‚ and it oozed out and dripped on the floor. Once I put my boots on‚ my feet were excited and before I knew it‚ I was flying out the door. One step outside and the smell of melting
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I sigh lowering into an old wooden chair seated in a corner of the small shop I happened upon. Placing my warm drink on the rickety table‚ I stare out a nearby window and give a slight shiver. Grabbing the edges of my worn wool coat I pull the old coat tighter. The action doesn’t do much itself‚ but it makes me feel better. I look outside again‚ my eyes drifting over dull‚ empty markets‚ the slow rain drizzles down the pane of glass as I continue to look outside. A heavy cloud of gray has been hanging
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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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While the mob and their torches believe I am still on the other side of their camp‚ I waste no time in setting off my last great plan for this morning. While it may be true that they dug their fires into pits in the ground to hide from me‚ they will regret making it so easy for me to access them. Gripping my filth ridden rod tightly I make a final jab‚ into their very own fire pit‚ striking it as though it were one of the petty brigands. It doesn’t take very long for the rod to become engulfed in
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Naturally by this time my aching loneliness glides in like an empty cloud drifting afar in the dead of night. All presence of faith deserted long before the scorching sun inhaled its last breath‚ in order for the moon to be reborn. Yet unmistakably it’ll only be the sun welcoming my dispirited morning as any glimpse of faith is hushed by my heavy thoughts‚ which deeply desire to remain firmly rooted in my mascara stained pillow. A reminder of the all the endless nights I overfilled with enough tears
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As I sprint across the hot sand that burns the soles of my feet‚ the smell of salt water and sunscreen hits my face. I can see teenagers nearby as they dive to save a falling volleyball‚ covering themselves in grains of sand. While I’m preoccupied‚ watching the intense game of volleyball‚ the cold waves of the Atlantic Ocean come crashing down on my legs. I can hear my best friend‚ Tara‚ dying of laughter as my body tries to adjust to the temperature of the sparking turquoise waters. Surrounding
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Walking down the hallway I remember experiencing the familiar 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 dressing room door. When I enter I am welcomed by my family‚ who have been waiting to congratulate me on my first show. My eyes analyze them in order across the room. My mother‚ who used to always sing me songs when I was a child‚ not being the most excellent at it‚ but always able
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Wind softly caressed my cheeks‚ sending strands of my hair dancing across the back of my neck‚ the roaring crash of the waves against the rocky shore attempted to distract me‚ and the salty scent of the sea crept through my nose. My concentration‚ however‚ never broke. It was as if all the elements of the nature surrounding me realized I wasn’t easily distracted. Everything stopped at once. In only a moment there was no longer any wind‚ no salty air‚ and no obnoxious sound. It all paused for a single
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My heart thumps in my chest as I peer over the edge‚ a 6‚000 foot drop that has been carved out‚ making way to the deep‚ blue river. The harsh sound of water pounding against the dark red rock makes it very clear how this canyon has been formed. I try to make my across the canyon’s edge‚ but I’m beginning to feel faint and the fear of falling has almost completely consumed me. I slowly take another step‚ trying not to look down. As I place my foot down I knock loose a few stones that go clattering
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Irma‚ the deadly hurricane that held no conscious in terminating any object in its path was soon to arrive Florida. The black ominous clouds were suffocating the sun. The temperature dropped‚ the air was bone-chilling sending shivers throughout my body. Slowly the atmosphere was beginning to feel intoxicating. There was no solution but to endure its wrath. The wind was howling in fury‚ seeking for revenge. It bent the palm trees neck and snapped it in half. The palm trees were now lifeless‚ scattered
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