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The Box
The Box Death. Dying. Die. Dead. I was thinking of all the ways you can use the word die as I walked around this rather bleak church that we occasionally visited if my grandmother guilt trip my parents to come. It was so easy to say, so easy to think about. Death. Dying. Dead. My mother and father are dead. My mother and father have died. My mother and father have experienced death. My English teacher, Miss. Rowley, would be so proud of all the ways I could use die in somewhat complete and captivating sentences.
By antoinette3 years ago in Families
Brilliant Betty
Betty stood calmly observing the comings and goings of her friends and others as they ambled from clump to clump, biting and chewing the green grass. Marvelous! Thought Betty to herself. That’s all they do. All day. Apart from swishing flies with their tails and dropping the occasional cow ‘bomb’ on the ground, they just walk around eating grass all day.
By D.A. Cairns3 years ago in Families
Hand-Me-Downs
A tiny box wrapped in brown paper remains protected from the elements nestled in a tree trunk. Time has become lost and its placement soon becomes forgotten by the surrounding wildlife. How long it has been in hiding begs the question, and who put it there remains a mystery. As if engulfed in magic, the treasure sits free from elemental damage. A surprising feat given the luscious foliage in the surrounding area.
By Mollie Narutovics3 years ago in Families
My Mission
Hi, my name is Bob, Bob the box. I have been sitting flat on the shelf for a while now, hoping someone will choose me to deliver something special for them. It's what I have wanted since I was created. To fulfill my job. To deliver something safely, to that special someone. I come in a package, with everything you will need to send that something to that someone. It's me, the box, along with brown paper to wrap it and a mailing label that will need to be filled out. All you need is tape.
By Christa Soco3 years ago in Families
The Taste of Love
The weight of her pockets pulled at her shorts. The waistband on one side slid lower and lower as she walked. She hitched her thumbs into the belt loops and pulled her shorts up for what felt like the hundredth time since leaving home. They were frayed along the edges, like most of her other belongings they had once belonged to someone else.
By E. W. Lynn3 years ago in Families
A Taste of Heaven
"Man, cancer sucks." Chase Hendrix murmured to himself under his breath as he looked at himself in the mirror. He rubbed his white bald head with his right hand from back to front and slowly down his face. He studied himself closely as his left hand shakenly balanced his frail body on the walker.
By Chayil Champion3 years ago in Families