mwalbridge
My family loves bowling. I mean, we get down-right serious about bowling. Its become a family past time and there are lot of us so it really becomes the Olympics of the family when we all get together. We are a competitive bunch, too. I think we all enjoy it so much because old rivalries are renewed while new ones are made with each successive generation.
I took the metro down to the city center. It wasn't at all like I expected. There were no bums, no prostitutes, no XXX theatres...hell, I couldn't even find a butt to re-smoke.
Mumbling, mumbling, mumbling...saying so much but saying nothing at all.
Geometric shapes are not necessarily aligned to protect ones sense of perfection or perspective. As a matter of fact, a quadrangle can drive an OCD person mad just by virtue of the side not to mention the angles.
I can branch out and be anything I like. I can be the writer, photographer, creative person that I long to be. There really is nothing stopping me from being all those things. Except the noose...that I hang around my neck each day. The noose that hangs from the branch on my tree of self-doubt, criticism, and regret.
She was the anchor in the family. Her presence was one thing that grounded them all to the home, to the town, to the past.
He looked at the dashboard and waited for the speedometer to read 65. If only he could make it to 65, he would feel much better about what he had done. He couldn't leave her if he hestitated and he wouldn't hestiate if could just get to 65. He kept the accelerator pushed down and watched as the needle climbed, slowly and steadily, towards the magic number that would free his heart and clear his conscience.
writing since 2013 · 8 entries · 8 days shown up
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