cuddlebear
I used to tell my grandmother that she had to cover the jell-o when it was in the fridge, otherwise it got hard on top. Yuck! I still believe in the same advice, because I don't like my jell-o hard on top. My grandmother also lives by that advice, and she makes some good jell-o.
I just think jelly=jello.
Came off really arrogant here. But hard jello?
No smell nor sight to give it away, it hides in the black of the night. Yet the roar of the thunder gives it away, nothing else, just the crash that echoes all around. It consumes you, it's everywhere.
The storm battled throughout the night, pitch black but for the moments when the lightning flashed across the sky. A lone woman scurried through the streets without worrying about being seen. For who would be out besides herself on such a wretched night?
My own violent tendencies start to scare me. It starts off as knocking over chairs and other items. I fear breaking something for the guilt that comes afterwards, but I am not myself in my anger. What if it gets worse? To breaking items, punching holes in walls, hurting people?
She slowly dragged the cigarette from her lips, elegantly holding it between two fingers. She let out a ringlet of smoke, watching it dance before her eyes.
"You must have proper etiquette, you must make me proud of my little girl, you must be PERFECT." Laughter erupted from my friends as I mimicked my mother in a girly, high-pitched voice.
He chewed on the straw in his mouth tipping his hat further down, trying to look cool. In reality, I though he just looked like a poser and a redneck. If he didn't act like this, maybe he really would look intimidating to me. The muscles in his arm bulged.
The maroon walls clashed only slightly with the forest green leather couch and chair set. The fireplace and large black TV stood almost side by side, the stairs to the upstairs separating them.
The cast cowered together as she yelled. Sarah rolled her eyes in apparent anger; After all, how could she be so unreasonable? They had done everything they could, had they not? Ungrateful jerk, she thought bitterly.
The stem snapped in two, revealing a hollow inside. I tugged at the end of it, getting my hands sticky. What kind of weed was this, anyway? I pulled up not only the roots, but a clump of dirt. I shook it violently and tossed it in the bin.
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