misscentennial14
I always like to have the third lane from the right. I pick up the blue swirly ball. My tennis shoes are a halr-size too big. The floor is slick. I toss the ball. I fall on my butt. I hear snickers.
"You are such a clutz," he says.
"Shut-up," I say.
She had never liked the arts. It was always too dull for her mind. She was just capable of so much more, things painting and crafting couldn't give her. She had emotions like artsy people, she cried alot. The kids at school told her she looked better when she cried than when she laughed. She liked that.
she had known him since she could remember. His face was more than familiar, it was a usual part of her life. She never thought she could have possibly been in love with him, but- it was happening. She flipped through the photo album filled with pictures of him standing beside her when they were still kids. She just couldn't be in love, he was just a friend
the bug crawled up my leg...i smashed it with my book.
Gee, sure i was studying to be a zoologist, but i don't think bugs count as "animals"
I continue reading my novel. I am swept away with the characters and the door bell rings. Oh no, Mrs Thompson. She will be infuriated
the primitive stages of ones youth can be painstakingly long
the vegetables, chores and such.
but when one looks back on ones childhood, from their current standing point, they will be thankful for the blistered hide and tears shed over imperfections.
the wind blew against her face blowin her hair around violently. al that she really wanted was something to drink something to eat and a face to look into. she lickeed her chapped lips and set her mind into a determined mind set. she couldnt give up now