My glorious, glamorous entrance: red and wailing, into the NICU because I'm breathing too fast.
My teacher tells my dad he doesn't have to worry about me being shy, because that morning, I had run into my two year old class, spread my arms wide, and said, "Hey everybody! It's CATIE!"
10 years old, staring at a room of fourth graders I've never met inCambridge, England, on the darkest January day; and I'm okay.
12 years old, discussing empathy in a room of kids from Jerusalem, the West Bank, and America.
14 years old, type, type, typing away, about to start freshman year halfway across the country; what happens now?
My teacher tells my dad he doesn't have to worry about me being shy, because that morning, I had run into my two year old class, spread my arms wide, and said, "Hey everybody! It's CATIE!"
10 years old, staring at a room of fourth graders I've never met inCambridge, England, on the darkest January day; and I'm okay.
12 years old, discussing empathy in a room of kids from Jerusalem, the West Bank, and America.
14 years old, type, type, typing away, about to start freshman year halfway across the country; what happens now?
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Grace Safford
Jul 11, 2017
Very cool! I was really excited to see what people would do with this prompt, and your response is really fascinating. Your sentences give the reader information, but withholds just enough so that there is an engaging air of mystery. I can't help but be curious about 10, 12, and 14. I loved reading this.
—GS, Intern