“…and this is all that’s left.”
“Wow. Sounds like there’s a lot of emotion packed into that little thing.”
“Yeah, there really is. I’ve supercharged it with my intentions, haven’t I?”
“That’s how it goes, that’s how it goes.”
She kept the ring as a souvenir to remind her of the challenge she had overcome. Hell if she could save the town from evil surely she could find herself a job. It was only a matter of applying. A numbers game her dad had called it.
I was rummaging through the souvenir shop when I spotted a cute koala stuff toy. I was about to pay for it but as I search for my wallet I realized that I left it at my car. Everyone was already staring at me and I’ve never been so humiliated before. But thanks to the guy beside me who’s also buying something, he was too nice to pay for the stuff toy instead. So I owe that guy a hug. *hugs* Again, thank you so much sir!
I traded postcards for the times I could not see your face through the bathroom window, looking cooly through the glass as I brushed my teeth, combed my hair. I listened through the walls for your feet shuffling dirt along the sidewalk, for the sound of your back knocking gently against your knee, but only found an empty august morning, the street being brushed clear by the wind.
“Take only pictures, leave only footprints…” this trail head’s motto is applicable elsewhere in our kitsch-driven lives. Things you don’t need, go on for aisles like miles, stack up in your cabinets, pile up your basement, give it about a year, and you’ll noticed a renewed abundance of future garage sale items.
She walked with her camera strapped tightly around her neck,
It would be the last time she would do this alone,
Smelled the ocean, tasted the moisture,
And went on these mystical adventures alone.
“Anna was going to have a family soon” her mom laughed, as did Hugh.
And this walk to the beach was her final souvenir.
Some of my best company has been in the car,
listening to this song.
next to you,
maybe sleeping –
us, with the windows down.
I like when the air blows your hair
all around your face, like
the clashing of waves in the sea.
I like it here,
when you’re next to me.
You’re the souvenir I grasp
with white knuckles;
and what a heavy loss it is
to wake up empty-handed.
I once went through customs after a long trip abroad. They make you fill out a form, declaring any items you might be bringing back to America. The customs agent looked at mine. He raised an eyebrow, “Various small things?” He asked. “I didn’t know how to spell souvenirs.” I said.
Before she could protest, she’d slipped her hand around the back of her neck and pulled her close, their lips crashing together with passion the older girl would later deny (vehemently, if necessary). Dancing away just as the guards rounded the corner, Seryna offered the lady a gaudy wink coupled with a wicked smirk that made her cheeks flush. “Thanks for the souvenir, Ary,” she said before launching herself through the open window.
The tooth rattled in Jolie’s cupped hand. It weighed almost nothing, but that soundless bouncing against her skin was very satisfying indeed. If she were to expose it to the light, it would look like nothing. A small rock, perhaps. There was no blood except in her mind. She smiled, turning her face into her padded jacket hood, and squeezed it hard, feeling the ridges stab into her skin. She’d keep it hidden in her palm.
I was the one who tied your shoelaces into knots, the white string and speckled dirt wrapping tightly around your ankles.
I was the one who made you food to eat, the bread and peppers forgetting to burn against your throat.
I was the one who held your hand and jumped off the swings, scabbing our knees and telling elaborate tales of magic and bravery.
You were the envy of all of your classmates.
I was the one who wrapped you up in a bright blue blanket, hiding your ears from the thunder, your eyes from the lightning.
Grab that blanket and trace its faded edges. I will be right beside you.
The young man eyed the souvenirs in the gift shop greedily. Even though he was low on cash that still didn’t dissuade him from picking up a cheap snow globe and sliding it into his coat pocket.
My dream is to have a giant shelf in my house filled with souvenirs from all around the world. A tiny Eiffel tower, a shot glass from Mexico…kitschy, cute, and dust ridden.
Memories of battles
Fought and battles
Won and battles
Souvenir splayed across
My cheek and dashed
I just ate an entire box of cookies in less than 24 hours. My only souvenir is an empty box and a bewildered stomach.
So you go to the Twin Towers and on the way out you need something to give, something to show that you were there in NYC, sooo you bought that little 6″ statue, never even thinking that someday it would be more than just a trinket.
I am ready. For what, I have no idea, but I am ready. I am moving, where, i have no idea, but i am moving. My mind is wander, off to where, i have no idea, but i am moving and it is awesome yet scary. I know this, but balance, commitment, intent, progress.
The heart is a souvenir that is made of fragile crystal and silver trimming. It amazed me how many people pick it up carelessly and damage it without considering purchasing it. I have lost all sales value that I start to begin with. As I was a souvenir on many guys’ list. So, apparently the store I’m shelved on should shut the doors. Souvenir.
The heart is a souvenir that is made of fragile crystal and silver trimming. It amazed me how many people pick it up carelessly and damage it without considering purchasing it. I have lost all sales value that I start to begin with. As I was a souvenir on many guys’ list.