Marie wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. Breathing heavily, she glanced impatiently at the bland, hospital door; its paint peeling around the edges; the hinges rusted. She knew that her sister was not in the hands of the most experienced doctors in town, but it was the closest hospital to home. Unsure of what to do with her hands, she interlaced her fingers, scrutinising the short, stumpy nails; a result of her anxious gnawing. Marie's mind wandered, as far as it could from the looming thought of her sister's fate. But within seconds, her thoughts were pulled right back...
The window was shattered, broken and unfixable, like my heart. Unable to see past the dull bluey-gray of the glass only held together by the thin grid of fencing. My house, my home, my haven, obliterated into millions of pieces, destroyed but no where near to the extent of the spirit of the people of my village. The children, mothers, fathers huddled together grasping on to what little life that remained. the bombs had come without warning. We had planned to flee the only country I knew, Syria the next day, but a day too late. The little hole that...
My feet ached, but it was well worth it. This is what I said when I completed that trek. The endless days and nights, the rationed food and just the stunning landscape of the mountains. I found it hard but I turned to God and prayed that I could complete this journey. I kept in mind the young children and their families. Raising money and supporting them made me so happy and feel accomplished. I would love to do this again but I wonder, could I do this again?
There was a young man but so much unlike a normal man he was. He was always put in solitude, never let neer others. There was a reason for this his, he was to dangerous his father would say to him. But he did not think this he did not think people would fear him. One day he had been walking through the courtyard and he spotted something in the corner, this was what he needed a tunnel. So the following night he crawled through and ended up in a town and smelled something so sweet.....blood.
On the top of a roof, in Australia, there was a chair carved from an Italian carpenter in the 18th century. It was a day that was certain to rain and a day that was certain to never get better. `A man sat on the old chair while thinking about his day and how he could improve it. It was a day that was clearly never going to get better and a day that made everyone feel down and upset.
The earthy smell of autumn leaves surrounded me and stimulated my senses. The crisp crunch of leaves was projected through the isolated valley as I gaped ahead at the distant disturbance. Harsh rustling and twigs snapping told me that this wasn't wind. This was a predator. My heart raced, its beats rapid and echoing through me. I tried to run but my legs were plastered to the ground, heavy as cement. And then I saw it.
SNAP! it was now that Klein realised he was done.
15 minutes earlier
there was a group of young boys running around having fun but little did i know that what they planned to do would leave them all scared. There were just at the beach with their family but sneaked away to go and swim in the forbidden ocean. Not this ocean was forbidden as it was full with sharks but they didn't know that. Klein and his friends all jumped in unaware of the dangers that laid ahead.As they were swimming one of the boys noticed 3 fins...
The visitor asked, "Can you write a story without a prompt?"
"I don't know," said the writer. "I've never tried."
"Really? You mean all those stories you wrote arose from something you'd seen or heard?"
"Or something I'd read. Tasted. Felt. Wondered about."
"And the novels? The poems? That terrible album you wrote and recorded?"
The writer smiled. "Yes, all of them. I need to have something to start from, some germ of a concept that I can build on. It's like the way a jazz musician riffs off a set theme. They start with what they have and make...
I couldn't move. My legs felt like jelly and I had to sit. Everything in the hospital seemed to go blurry.
"Are you ok?" asked the doctor. No I was not ok. The love of my life just died and It was all because of me. Anything would be better than this hell. Even an electric chair. As long as Joseph was alive I would be fine but now he's gone and I will never be ok again.
Until now, she'd never thought of herself as pretty. The purple satin fabric reaching her feet. Hair tied up beautifully. She had never looked better. Walking down the stairs towards her date a look of amazement on his face she knew this was going to be the best knight of her life.
A smile spread across her face as she saw the entry into the prom. Her friends standing outside waiting for them so then they could all walk in and rock this party together.