Pierce Nolan had lived in Louisiana for the last twenty years, but he had never ventured much further than the edges of the town. He had always been a quiet man, a straightforward speaker with little reservations. The small town of Barkridge was where he maintained his practice, dealing mostly with the local people and their problems. It was not for the most part an exciting life, but it was comfortable enough. That morning Pierce left for work at the same time he always did, 8am sharp. He said goodbye to his wife Velma, and soon jumped aboard the 802...
"HELP"
"There's no hope," the monotone sound of Sarah's voice echoing throughout the silent forest. I could not see her face, but I knew she was angry. "We have to at least try." I am trying to stay positive, ignoring the heaviness on my chest, my sweaty palms, my racing heart. "Correction- you have to try," her voice now sounded like it was mocking me, "You're the one who got us lost, now you've got to figure it out."
Each breath that leaves a cloud of fog before seems heavier then the last. The moon that lights up the sapphire...
While me and my friend were packing, I thought of what we will do during the holiday we have away from school or stress for that matter. I walked up to him with my luggage and grabbed his luggage. I rolled them all the way to the car. He soon joined me in getting everything else in the car. We started to drive soon and soon enough, we reached our destination. I got out of the car and walked to the front desk of the hotel. I grabbed the key card and walked back over to the car. I grabbed...
Along a windig path we went up to find the ancient temle which no one has seen in thousands of years. I am archeologist olivia grace in search of this lost temple.
Coming with me on this hunt fr a temple is my collegue samatha and some other people i have just met. The local people in this country hve let us ride the elephants to the temple.
We were almost there but the elephants dragged their feet along the rocky path of the steep hill. they sensed danger said one of the local people who came along with us...
We were to meet in the gallery. The glass one, stone fronted with tiles. It is an old place, no longer fashionable. It looks out onto a street where buses no longer run and rubble fills the roads. He said he had a message to give me. The way it was said, it did not imply that the message was from him, but only that he was a messenger, of the most unwilling kind. What inconvenience it must cause you, I might have argued, to have to meet up with me in such way. What a task your people as...
As I clench the sweet smelling flowers in my hand, I stare into his perfect emerald eyes.
In this moment I remember why I love him so much. Every moment that I am with him, I feel warm, comfortable, free.
The sun smiles at me and the breeze sings a song that calms my racing heart, though I do not know why it is racing. I look down to see his emerald eyes, now staring up at me. I am captured by them, though then I am drawn to something else- his hands. Within them lay a velvet navy box....
The year was 1986 and she was a high school softball star. So young and full of potential. She was beautiful. She had a beauty that stopped time every time you looked at her. The world was hers for the taking. She loved a lot and loved with all her heart. She held it together for her babies. She tried for so long but the pain chipped away at her slowly everyday. How could she leave? She loved her children more than heartache killed her. What were her dreams? How different would her life be had she not gotten pregnant?...
When I see these flowers, and this man standing here (that's me, by the way), and I see all the men with guns walking behind me, I'm supposed to say that the flowers remind me of a lady. I'm supposed to taste the dust in my mouth, remember my comrades who gave their lives, understand the difference between pride and loyalty, duty and identity.
Mostly, I remember not knowing where I stood with any of these things; thinking that this was the process to figuring it out.
We're all figuring it out, aren't we? To know where you stand is...
The wall is the place most people choose on their own. You come for a day or a week and it's never to see the sights. The sights are immaterial, and not unexpected. Temples, tea houses with dripping peremera trees hanging soot and sleek flowers over damp pollenated tables. Once thriving book shops and market warrens closed down by the proper authorities. Cab drivers who direct you round about ways and never give useful directions. None of these things are unusual, or particularly memorable. It is instead, the wall itself, that calls to you. The wall is the reason you...
I clutched onto the flowers. Today was the day. I am only 19 but I am getting married right now. My father was a rich businessman and my mother died when I was very young. My father than re-married and she married a beautiful Parisian woman. You may think she is a beauty but she is a pain in the arse. She treats me like rubbish. "Go fetch me my earrings," she would call out. But one year later after marrying my father she died suddenly.
My father couldn't bear this again, so he sent me to an orphanage. I...