sarah rosellini
Achievements (1)
Stories (15/0)
Whistle, Quiet, Hide
Jolted awake. Darkness - I don't know where I am. My legs are cramped, folded under me. A confined space and it's stifling hot. No air....I can't breath. Disoriented. And then it clicks.....the low rumble, the rocking, the whistle of the train. I've been picked. I feel foggy and not myself. My head is pounding. I can’t think. Stay calm. How did they get me on board? I have lost time. Hours? Days? What do I remember? Nothing.
By sarah rosellini2 years ago in Fiction
Move over Billy Shears
Shears are scissors, much the way a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. I thought a lot about this challenge, and quickly came to realize that writing about my amazing craft capabilities would simply be out of the question because I have absolutely none. That isn't a bold statement to get sympathy, just a real and honest appraisal of my (in)abilities! But upon deeper contemplation, it occurred to me that I do have some burgeoning, all be them meager, talents in the garden. And with this thought, I decided there was hope for me yet. I took creative liberties and veered away from crafts such as sewing, knitting, and painting, to instead focus on my penchant for small scale gardening.
By sarah rosellini3 years ago in Humans
- Third Place in (No) Regrets Challenge
Local Teacher Sprayed with Poo on First Day of SchoolThird Place in (No) Regrets Challenge
Of course, we all have those moments we'd like to un-have. Like when your toddler drops his sippy cup full of juice on the sidewalk, and then you pick it up and hand it back to him, and he kicks his little legs and repeatedly screams in his underdeveloped and poorly annunciated way, "No Joos", which sounds a lot like something else. And then you realize that there are people outside staring at you, and you feel like a terrible Mother because your child is being loud and tantrummy, but then you register that they are actually all standing outside a synagogue, and it's Saturday, and everything clicks into place, and you realize the horror of what is unfolding, and you start jogging with your stroller and declare, quite loudly, "Oh, you don't want any more JUICE", as if saying it more clearly and louder will erase what has just transpired.
By sarah rosellini3 years ago in Confessions
Chance
I have grown to love the rocking. At first the incessant, rhythmic lapping bore into my mind, overtook my thoughts, and numbed my senses. With each subsequent wave a tightness grew in my chest, building a dread that couldn't be contained. I thought I was lost, and I would stay in this purgatory until the end.
By sarah rosellini3 years ago in Humans
- Top Story - March 2021
SirTop Story - March 2021
I cannot be certain, but I suspect the first time I saw To Sir, With Love was on a Sunday afternoon when we were often allowed to watch the 3:00 movie on TV. My Mum tells me I was 5 years old at the time and enamored from the get-go. Much of it went over my head of course, but something stuck. Since then, I must have seen the film 50 times, most likely more, I own it on DVD, and when Sir joins the graduation dance with his class it still gets me emotional every single time. To me, this is Sidney Poitier, a Sir in his own right, both the character and the man; quietly dominating a narrative, laying the seeds of change one film at a time, and inspiring others to do the same.
By sarah rosellini3 years ago in Education