When Mother's Hands Were Magic
Do you remember when your mother's hands were magic?
When they looked like hands
Smelled like hands
Felt soft and calloused and strong like hands but weren't like your hands because
Do you remember when your mother's hands were magic?
When they looked like hands
Smelled like hands
Felt soft and calloused and strong like hands but weren't like your hands because
The soil gently shifted around the straw thin roots of the sprouting pine. Up, down, left, right, as a wormlet wiggled by. But as they passed, their tough roots, their fragile skin brushed against each other, like a brush stroke on a canvas.
I think that being immortal would be pretty torturous, never being able to pass away could cause you to descend into madness. Just observing all of your loved ones as they age and die.
May 6, 1978 was the day Marie had gotten kidnapped. She was 17 years old, just barely learning how to drive a car, because her parents didn’t have one. One day she was walking to her father's place, her father’s name is Richard.
Ghostly
Thetford Academy
7th Grade
Oliver Dunnet
“Oh hey, Tim. What’s going on?''
Maybe it’s funny but every time I try to write about you, the words die in my throat. Is it that I know too much? Or too little?
EZRA– Ezra lay sprawled, with his head almost touching the ground, on one of the beanbags that lined one corner of the tightly backed bookshop, searching, upside down, for his favorite book.
I woke up, knowing something was wrong, and heard something strange whooshing sound. I raced to the window, and my breath caught, my heart ripping through my chest.
It was a relatively easy flight. After our Glacier National Park trip was canceled, thank goodness. I was so frustrated that our dad scheduled this; why not Hawaii?
Clash…
Clash…
..Clash
Clash..
It was a cold Tuesday morning in October. The warm and well light ambiance of the diner with soft chatter in the background of their conversation made it hard for her to accentuate her disdain.
I feel like I’m drowning. All those clocks, ticking and ticking and ticking like the beating of my heart day in and day out for eternity, and then just- nothing. A split second between the start of forever and the end, and how can it b