As they flew over the jetty‚ Lincoln looked for Sergei‚ but could not see him. He saw several boats had already left and the remaining ones were quickly filling with blue and orange overalls. Unfortunately‚ it was too dark to see if the fog was still there. “Good luck‚ Sergei‚” Lincoln said quietly as the helicopter roared past. Looking ahead‚ Lincoln could only see darkness and the myriad of stars that lit the night sky. He turned to Jeremy‚ who looked like a frightened school kid who’s been told
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Pulling into the driveway‚ as rain plummets from the dark heavens‚ producing loud splats on the hood of my whale gray Sudan‚ I pause for a moment‚ contemplating if I want to reach for the umbrella. Understanding that my suit will become slick with the substance‚ I conclude that the walk to the front door is not a journey worth bothering about. As I step out of the car and briskly make my way to the front steps‚ shielding myself from the torrential downpour‚ I sense a rush of deja vu‚ like I had experienced
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Martin screamed in agony! The lady knew his name. She said “hello Martin‚ what a nice day you would like to come over to my apartment.” Martin was frozen in fear. He began to say “how do you know my name?”The lady had a smirk on her face and she said "I know everything about my sweet child.”Martin began to shake because he didn’t know what to do. His dad was gone and on the floor below him. He couldn’t go anywhere. The lady pushed the stop on the elevator. The lady looked at him and said‚ "What’s
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In the corner of my room‚ there’s this window‚ plain and unassuming—or so I thought until one fateful afternoon. School had been a drag‚ as usual‚ and I was daydreaming out of boredom‚ my gaze wandering to the window. That’s when I noticed it—a strange glimmer‚ like a spark of lightning trapped within the glass. Intrigued‚ I leaned closer‚ my heart pounding with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. Suddenly‚ the air crackled with energy‚ and the world outside twisted and warped‚ transforming into
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The day had started off somewhat normal. I was staying home from school since I felt sick. I remember the day well. The sky was a bit cloudy‚ it was warm outside‚ and my house smelled like oranges from the other day when someone in my house sprayed the air freshener a bit too much. The only bad news I had expected was rain‚ but instead‚ I got hit with a bombshell. “Dad had a heart attack‚” Mom told me. I briefly froze‚ her words almost made my heart sink. For a second‚ my vision blurred‚ my head
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"Beep‚" the ticket scanned on the tall counter with a flashing green. The tall‚ beautiful lady dressed in extravagant red attire led us through. In front of me lay a tunnel‚ cubed-shaped and stretched‚ made of flat glass and metal. I made my way across nervously as my hand was being held by my mom. The thudding sound of people pacing along me echoed across the tunnel. Out lay rows of planes. I had seen them in the skies gliding along‚ leaving a white trail; however‚ this time they were massive‚ the
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As I sat on the swing that my father strung from the highest branch. He had to tie a weight to the end of the rope and throw it over. I remember my mom standing in the kitchen window‚ just standing there smiling at us. All that evening I sat there and he swung me for hours as I felt the wind on my face‚ and my feet reached the air above the creek below. I remember when I was there‚ I was afraid that I would fall into the water. As I sit here now and swing myself‚ I realize I am not at all as scared
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When I was five years old‚ I accompanied my mother—a vibrant white woman with wavy blonde hair—to the grocery store. My olive-tone skin and short‚ pin-straight dark brown hair set us apart. Within minutes of our arrival‚ an older woman approached my mother‚ raising her voice in a tirade. I was too young to grasp the gravity of the situation‚ but it was made evident that the woman’s hostility was aimed towards me based on her finger pointing in my direction. Shortly thereafter‚ the police arrived
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1. What is the difference between a. and a. As I rose from my bed in the middle of the August night‚ I stood in my room shivering‚ unsure if it was from the open window or from the terror I felt as I discovered another body inhabiting my bed. So many questions to ask. First one that comes to mind: who the fuck’s body is inhabiting my bed? Do I wake them up? Do I pull the covers off? Did Tito Gabe leave the front door unlocked and some random hobo needed a place to stay? And on my second night here
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For my personal interview I interviewed Patrick McDougal a counselor at a PTSD group for veterans. I meet him when I had to drive my grandpa to the weekly meet up. When I first saw McDougal I thought he was one of the group members. I was a little taken back when my grandpa introduced me he looked like he was one of the guys. I picked him due to the fact his personality made it easy for me to talk to him and how long he had been in the profession a total of twenty-five years. He was happy that I
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