Relatively recently, I have discovered that Gettysburg is one of my favorite places, in general, despite being so close to home. It is still novel to me, and despite being home to less than 8,000 people, there are plenty of things I have yet to do. There are restaurants that I like, fun stores in the somewhat touristy area, of course, the battlefield. Despite that, the main reason I like to go there so much is because that's where my favorite coin store is. It seems that every dollar I've ever made working a summer job has gone to that store, but it is well deserved. The owners are great, and they helped introduce me to a passion which is still going strong 2 years later. That store is incredible. Just about any coin the country has ever made all in one place. I could spend hours there, and it feels like I do when I am there. I wish I could every time.

On Vacation my brother and I stayed at my mom’s house because my dad was busy. My dad came over and we went down to the river. My brothers and I went in the river.

 The river is really cold. The water was going really fast where I fell in. Then my brothers, my dad and I threw rocks in the river. Then we went back to my house. When my brothers and I were running up to the house my cat followed us.  After my brother passed me, I kept running and my cat was chasing me.  Afterwards, we ate some food. Then  we played and went for a walk. 

About Stowe, Vermont
There’s something about Stowe that makes you pay attention.
Vermont is known for scenic overlooks, maple syrup, and a thriving ski industry. Travel guides rave about the recreational activities – hiking, mountain biking, running – that can be enjoyed. Stowe, in particular, is renowned for recreational appeal. Each winter, skiers travel from near and far to navigate Mount Mansfield.
We approached Stowe on an overcast summer day. I knew nothing about this town we were visiting. My Apple Watch was guilting me about my lack of exercise. My feet had fallen asleep. My mind kept wandering to the strawberry rhubarb bars next to me – until we rounded the corner.

*THWACK* The crack of the wiffle ball off Carter’s bat echoes around the basement as he clobbers Spencer’s curving pitch. Unfazed by the deafening sound, I track the ball off the wall and into the back corner of the room. As Landon eases his way home, Carter rounds first, his ten years of being beaten up by his two older brothers molding him into the athlete he has become. I snatch the ball up and throw it at Carter as he dives for second, praying he makes it in time before *SMACK*, the wiffle ball hits his leg just before he reaches the bag. 

    The soft flow of the stream is music to our ears as we putter down the hill, twigs snapping under our feet, heading to our favorite summer abode. The stream invites the four of us as the summer heat bears down after a long day of various “brother club” activities, some of the last ones we will have while all under the same roof. 

Nostalgia

I sat down alone on the cold pinewood chair with a bowl of 2x ramen 

The strong smell of spice-filled my nostrils

It reminiscent my head with memories of days I spent laughing

With my friends as we speed ate ramen to see who could finish first

Bursting into tears out of laughter and the burning of our throats

As we looked at each other wondering who would be the first to give up

And chuck down the glass of cold milk 

 

Sitting in a hamock on my lawn looking
at our beautiful mountains. They make
me so happy. In the Fall there so many 
diffrent colors. So pretty they make me 
feel so happy that I live here in these 
green mountains
 

The bat drifted out of my hands, and in that moment, everything changed. It connected itself to the ground as my legs instinctively shot forward. The ringing in my ears pained me like strong tinnitus. My team cheered from beside me. My coach screamed at me. My friends watched me. The world spun in a nauseating motion as my feet dug into the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust behind me. My head throbbed as I proceeded, hungover, towards first. I didn’t bother to check if the ball had been caught, it didn’t matter to me. None of it mattered to me. “God,” I yelled as I rounded first, “damnit!” My head faced the ground as I carried myself, forcing myself to keep moving, suppressing my intense will to fall to the ground already and give up, to give in to these emotions. “Damnit, damnit, damnit!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, “Damnit all!” My rage wasn’t calming. Baseball had always drawn it all out of me.

A short story/speech about the paranoia that races through my mind and others.