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The banks won’t take my money when the mud crumbles off the edges of my jeans because I look sketchy. Ironic- I just stopped by after my practice at BAND CAMP after a strenuous day of dealing with AP homework. Banks are bitches. They claimed I could have found this check right outside the door and could be claiming to be Annie. LOL Im annie wat.

Posted By annie On 08.14.2012 @ 6:58 am

He didn’t grasp the concept that she loved him. She said it over and over again, but she could see the words visibly deflected, like the light reflecting off of his eyeglasses on this sunny day. “I’m sorry. I should not have said that,” she muttered hopelessly as he walked away without a hint of the problem at hand.

Posted By annie On 08.13.2012 @ 9:11 am

The motivation is there. The words are lying just beneath the skin, resting above veins like so much subdermal fat. Tearing it open and screaming it to the skies with dull blades and toothpicks is the only way to get it out and to heal.

Posted By Annie On 08.12.2012 @ 5:21 pm

long sprawling conversations aimless fields of words no direction no location just beauty and thought and open sky and field with ideas springing up like wildflowers

Posted By annie On 08.10.2012 @ 12:21 pm

Carved. Emblazoned. Decorated. Hung. Dead. Cold. Magnetic. Poised. Grasped. Turned. Translated. Corrected. Used. Cobbled.

Posted By Annie On 08.04.2012 @ 10:52 pm

The key grated in the lock, and the door stuck on the jamb as I pushed it. A little kick sent it shuddering open, and I stepped into the house. “ugh.”

Cherry-stones littered the floor and crunched underfoot, and the vibrations of my footsteps caused powderpost dust to drift down from the beams overhead. Now I knew why Aunt Alicia left me the ancient farmhouse; she never had liked me much.

Posted By Annie On 08.04.2012 @ 2:58 pm

It seems like what was secret to my heart was known to everyone else’s. It seems like the truth I wanted was unknown to everyone else. It seems that the thoughts I felt were goosebumps to everyone else. It seems like what I loved was what everyone else hated.

Posted By Annie On 08.03.2012 @ 10:42 pm

“This is our secret hiding spot.” Brenda tucked the little box deep into the cleft between the rocks. “No one knows about it but you and me, and you can’t tell,”

Abby nodded, a little awed by the responsibility her big sister had conferred upon her.

Posted By Annie On 08.03.2012 @ 7:55 pm

I remembered the day we gave the camera to Dad. Father’s Day, 1976. We went on a picnic, a long hike down an old road in the woods, to a spot where the cold waters of a brook dashed over the round stones. We made a fire and cooked hot dogs, and had pepsi and ginger ale, and the air was full of the golden light of June, the sunlight turning the forest to shades of green amber and peridot.

Posted By Annie On 08.03.2012 @ 5:14 am

I just love cameras. Give me a camera and I can entertain myself for hours. Maybe even forever. I just want a really good camera, like a Nikon or a Canon or something like that. A real camera. So that I could properly capture all that life has to offer. My life. The good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful. Just everything.

Posted By Annie On 08.02.2012 @ 8:18 pm

I saw the chain, just visible through the dust, and followed it back to where it was fastened to a stake driven into the ground. You won’t catch me that way, I thought, and looked for the trap, disguised with leaves and dirt. It was big – big enough to break my leg. I found a branch and poked at the pan; the trap sprung, flinging itself into the air, and closed on the branch with a mighty snap, breaking it clean in two.

“Clever girl.” His voice laughed from the thicket behind me.

Posted By Annie On 08.02.2012 @ 5:28 am

the principal at the high school puffed out his large mustache, gripping his mug of coffee so tightly. Danny sat across from him, watching the steam wash up and invade the small hairs above his lip. The principal was new this year, replacing Mr. Yates, who had simply grown too old for the position. “This guy has no idea what he’s doing,” Danny thought quietly.

Posted By annie On 07.30.2012 @ 9:35 am

The principal looked down from her lofty height at the two scuffed, muddy combatants who cowered before her. “well?” she asked. “What do you think I should do with you two? Russ?” The boy’s eyes fell. “Danny?”

“Um…. send us home?”

Posted By Annie On 07.30.2012 @ 6:41 am

there was an old movies, i think 90′s era, about a cabinet that brought toys to life. I wanted that cabinet so bad, like every kid i dreamed of having all my toys come to life, never needing friends again because I would have my toys.

Posted By Annie On 07.28.2012 @ 2:37 pm

There is nothing better that a statement. It is said. It is clear. When statements are said, words are heard. When words are heard words are believed.

Posted By Annie On 07.27.2012 @ 4:29 am

gum can be the gum of your teeth, even the gum that you can chew. the gum you chew has many flavours such as watermelon, strawberry and even mint. You can get chewing gum or bubble gum. Bubble gum allows you to blow bubbles! The gum that your teeth stand on our the foundations , without it the teeth would not be secure and could also fall out easily.

Posted By Annie On 07.26.2012 @ 7:49 am

The holder is a very special person indeed. Th items belonging to them are what others might call magical. But of course, they must not let the magic leak, for then will the holder be discovered. The holder is a secretive person, one who keeps things secretive, and to themselves. They get fasinated by the smallest things, yet behold the worlds biggest mysteries.

Posted By annie On 07.25.2012 @ 2:13 am

The power went out every damn time there was a storm. A roll of thunder could be heard from fifteen miles away, and the fuses would blow. Kelley grabbed the flashlight and stomped down the cellar stairs for the third time in as many weeks, regretting that she had moved back to the old farmhouse to begin with.

Posted By Annie On 07.24.2012 @ 9:54 am

The icing slumped – dribbled – plopped from the cake, taking chunks of the delicate dark chocolate crumb with it. The more she tried to fix it, the worse it got, until, as her brother put it, it looked as though she had frosted the cake with a pitchfork.

Posted By Annie On 07.23.2012 @ 6:00 am

Ezra’s letter was hard to read. He had lost his eyeglasses while out on patrol, and when he got back to the camp, had sat on a stump by the fire, writing with dull pencil on damp paper. “Dear farther,” he had written, “I have ben on sentry duty – lost my spectickles but caught a johny reb spy near camp.”

Posted By Annie On 07.20.2012 @ 4:59 am

I am a patrol officer. To be fully honest, I don’t know exactly what that means. My cousin scored me the job while I was in need of money-badly. All I really do is stand around all day and kind of just look at my surroundings, take it all in. I want to know everything about everything, and I guess I’m just trying to properly read everything.

Posted By Annie On 07.19.2012 @ 9:21 pm

We didn’t have anything to use for a stretcher. Bill vaguely remembered something from his Boy scouts days about making a stretcher out of 2 sticks and 2 coats, but it was not of much use here, as it was summer, and none of us had coats, and no one had anything to cut down the proper-sized sticks with, anyway.

Posted By Annie On 07.18.2012 @ 7:14 pm

The boxes came out of the attic on the 18th of December. We had all been too busy and distracted to think about Christmas. Mom’s illness was the one thought that rang in our minds, louder than any bells, glaring with a blinding effect that outshone any twinkling lights.

Posted By Annie On 07.17.2012 @ 8:42 am

They were all about the room, plastered in sad arrays to celebrate the aging and the dying and the wilting all around. The cats tore them down and batted them about the floor. The joy was magnetic.

Posted By Annie On 07.16.2012 @ 6:05 pm

i love decorations with recycled materials. they are the best crafts. everyone enjoys looking at them and writting about them.

i think that decorating places can change perspective and also improve a room. colors are essential for good decorations.

Posted By Annie On 07.16.2012 @ 3:43 pm

The little girl looked down at her knee, where the row of Dora and Pooh and Spongebob bandages made a colorful patch on her knee. She sniffled again, and rubbed her nose.

“There you go, dear,” her mother said.

“Can I go back out on my bike?’ the girl asked.

Posted By Annie On 07.12.2012 @ 6:06 pm

the bandages covered her arms. Each the same placid dull beige-white color that could only remind her of hospitals. But they were a better appereance then what was beneath them. The purple, blue, and green manifest of colors that could only be brought about by pain, by someone’s hurt. And a bright red slashes that had a glow even beneath their cover. They were a painful reminder pf what she’d done “wrong” and how she “better never do it again” if she didnt want those bandages again. In a weird way though, she kind of liked them.

Posted By Annie On 07.12.2012 @ 2:23 pm

This reminds me of parental advisory, as in, the kind that doesn’t allow teenagers to watch R-rated movies. When in fact, I watch them all the time, without my parents knowing, of course. It always makes for a good and slightly awkward time.

Posted By Annie On 07.12.2012 @ 5:53 am

Her adviser looked up from his desk. “Don’t you think it’s time you made a decision?”

“well…”

“Gina, you’re an adult. You have to make up your mind about what you want to do. I can’t do it for you.”

Posted By Annie On 07.11.2012 @ 7:48 pm

“May I make a small suggestion?” he asked, and I bit my tongue. He didn’t know the first thing about mortaring a window into a stucco wall, but he thought he was an expert of everything, from childbirth to stonemasonry, and there was no way to make him see otherwise.

Posted By Annie On 07.10.2012 @ 11:30 am