Ashrufus
Spectrum. The spectrum is full of so many vibrant colors, yet there seems to be no beginning nor end to the start of a color. The color is just there until you realize that is not anymore. No new page, no final chapter, its just there.
Her toned body flexed as she flipped on the beach. The sun set in brilliant hues illuminating the perfect scene for the young gymnast. As time would go on, the nightly tradition would continue until one day, an old frail woman would sit in the same spot the young girl once flipped, reminiscing in old memories.
Slate. Slate chalkboards, do remember them? We used to write on them, draw, and pretend. Pretend to be teachers, pirates, and so much more. But now as I look down at the chalkboard that you dropped, I see it is just like you and I in real life. Shattered in a million pieces and broken forever.
Miraculous. Beautiful, incredible. Stories that inspire us, amaze us. Ones that change our outlook on life. Stories about recovery, about gifts, about amazing stories of survival. The ones that fuel us to be better everyday.
The historic landmark stood in the park, once admired by many, now was collecting dust. Everyday people just walked by ignoring it. Until one day a girl stopped in from of it. She said, "What are we doing? This was built for a purpose, to honor someone, it's time we started to do that." The girl rounded up friends and together they cleaned the historic landmark.
The girl stapled her paper paper just as the bell. She let out deep breath.
"Phew. I made it." She turned the paper into the folder on her teacher's desk proud of the work she had done. She went back to her desk, grabbed her binders and then head to her next class.
The horse began to run as soon as she was free from the barn and felt her rider urge her on. "Steady," exclaimed the girl, "I don't want to fall off!" The horse began to slow down to an even pace while running through the dense brush of the woods knowing it would be a while before they reached their destination.
Once beautiful hands, once hands full of life. Now they lay still, not moving in her lap covered my a blanket. She tries not to let people see. She hides them in gloves, so sick of people staring. Truthfully, she is embarrassed. There is little she can do with them now. And to think they were once hands of beauty and life.