natychan
The orange cone is sitting on the street. It looks like a triangular sun in a night sky. It shines in the light.
I picked up the accordion with gentleness from the floor. I hugged it against my chest, against my pain. Tears flooded. Oh, Marco. You left so early in life and all I have is your link to love.
The crisp potato chip crunched as soon as my teeth made contact. The silence in the room was awkwardly stunning. Everyone heard me and my crisp. I fumbled with the bag, and put it away in my purse. No way was I gonna say that the snacks at the party were awful.
I turned the knob in the radio and came upon a station playing snazzy tunes. I smiled and left it. After a while, a song came up. One of those sappy, romantic songs that make even the manliest man look gay for 3 minutes. I giggled at the lyrics. All I heard was unicorns and rainbows. I rolled my eyes and turned the knob.
I held tight to the embrace. Our heats entwined in one, giving out a pleasant beat. I looked up at your face and you held me tighter. A tear fell out. I don't know to whom it belonged. But there it fell, a reminder of a farewell.
I went to my aunt's funeral and had a mixture of melancholy and happiness. Everyone was together, giving each other strength under the heavy gloom. I held my sis's hand and walked over to the casket to get one last glimpse of her and the smile she had on her face as she went away into pure bliss.
I lifted the corner of the page and saw the doodle on it. A big hear with out initials scrawled in hasty letter. I blushed and my heart skipped a bit. I often times wondered why he was so shy to express those feelings. Why, my heart couldn't contain joy whenever I saw something as thoughtful as this.
The wall was a mask of painted colors. Crayons all crushed into the porous surface by the toddlers. Loopy stick figures and 4-stick-toes dogs looked at me with a loony smile.
His pants were plaid. He looked so handsome and yet so different above the common appearances of people. His blue hair, black shirt and plaid pants. Green with black plaid pants. A mixture of lines uncovering his complicated life.
The word was splattered in the chalkboard. The writer must have used lots of anger to write it. It looked as if it was in bold. How the echo of the laughters and giggled remained in my ears. My lower lip trembled, but up my head stayed. I was not gonna succumb under their mocking ways. I was gonna succeed. I was gonna walk away from the chalkboard and their lies.
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