Everyone tries to be funny and make jokes about the magic beans. "Trade a cow? How about my wife?" they say. But magic beans, and the vines that grow from them? That's no laughing matter, and my garden is a mess.
You ever known a weed to go away by cutting it down? No of course not, you cut the weed, and it will just grow back. You have to pull the thing out by the roots if you're going to have any hope of getting rid of the thing, and even then it's usually back in a week. Well,...
With a thundering bang, the gate closed behind them. They had not realized that they were being followed. Startled, the pair spun around. On the other side of the gate, a female figure stood, a heavy, elegant cloak draped about her shoulders, her dark hair streaming down her back. As she raised her arm ever so slightly, the trapped pair caught the smallest glimpse of... keys! The woman held the keys to the gate in her hand and tossed a disgusted look over her shoulder as she turned and began to walk away in the direction of the manor.
The...
It wasn't anything that could be helped. I had to go, so I went. Just before I reached the door, I managed to glance through the front window and saw my mother and Mrs. West arguing. I don't know what they were arguing about, but I knew for certain that one of them had the box, and also that both of them wanted it.
I wanted it it too, of course, and had already made up my mind that I would not be leaving this hick town until I had it. As the word spread day by day, my odds...
"Come on," Ricardo yelled, growing more frustrated by the second. "That guy is still trailing us. Step on it!"
"I don't know, Ricardo," Mark sympathized, "he looks homeless, and he probably needs help."
"Step on it!" Ricardo demanded. Mark obeyed.
Sam was just an average guy, at least he had been - but one day, he lost his job, his wife, and his two daughters at the same time. And he was cast into the streets. Sam tried to live his life, but it got harder every day, and he was in a state of severe depression. Sam had attempted...
I stare up into the sky, watching all the birds fly by.
Someday I'm gonna fly too.
My balloons float, why can't I?
I'm just a girl, I'm not special like you.
You flew and I want to fly after.
Not yet, but someday.
My head sighs but my heart beats faster.
I'll find a way.
A flash of red. A tiny girl huddled in a doorway, solace from the stinging wind. She was alone, completely alone, in a place that used to hold hundreds of thousands. Grey as far as the eye could see, except for that beautiful red dress. It was a gift from her mother. The result of much whining and pleading on her part, and saving and scrounging on the mother's. 3 days ago, on her birthday, she had opened the ornately wrapped package to discover it. She was so happy.
It was his job to paint portraits of people. They'd give him huge sums to paint them. Just look in the mirror, idiots! But it was his living, and he did it well. He lifted his brush to the canvas and glanced back at the young lady, who smiled. He smiled back weakly and started to paint. He loved the way the brush flowed over the canvas like ink out of a pen. It was beautiful. He painted slowly but surely, letting the paint take him where it needed to go. Soon the painting was finished. He showed the young...
It was dodge ball. The curse! I am the nerd in school and i happen to be picked last. As usual. My crush, Hannah, was on the other team. I cant believe i still like her. She barely even knows i exists.
Anyways it was PE. The dreaded hour of the day. I was standing at the back because i obviously cant throw a ball more than two feet. There she was. The PE uniforms looked horrible on everyone else but man, she could pull it off. Then i was pulled out off my head and slammed in the face...
Elle courait dans le couloir comme le matin les joggers courent le long de la piste cyclable. C'était son entrainement quotidien. A défaut de joli chemin en plein air, le corridor était son stade. Et elle était rémunérée pour courir. Non pas pour faire la gloire de la Chine aux JO, non, mais pour faire circuler l'air dans cet immeuble-ville. Les mouvement d'air provoqué par ses déplacements assuraient en partie la ventilation de l'habitation. Elle fait partie cette génération remise au goût moderne des enfants des mines.
Une fois son jogging d'une heure effectué, elle pouvait vaquer à ses occupations...