simplyunpublished
The family gathered around the hearth, whether they were happy or sad or just wanted to sit by the fire. It's amazing what a hearth in the kitchen can do for a family's bonding. They want to sit by the fire, and they gather, and the family is closer than those who don't have a fireplace in the middle of the house.
The images won't stop playing, on repeat in my head. It's a collection of thoughts, ideas, memories. I watch, completely entranced.
He shivers in the snow, not sure where his next meal will come from. It's cold, so cold that his hands feel frozen. The shelter down the road is full this time of year, or he'd swallow his pride and ask for their help. Maybe they could give him a home tomorrow night.
BAND! (two, three, four) To the REAR, MARCH!
BAND! (two, three, four) To the REAR, MARCH!
Left flank, MARCH!
Left flank, MARCH!
Right flank, MARCH!
Right flank, MARCH!
BAND! (two, three, four) Oblique left, MARCH!
Oblique right, MARCH!
BAND (two, three, four) Halt, MARCH!
Relax, but don't you dare move. The drill is only half over.
It's wrong. Something unacceptable, at least in the eyes of society. But that doesn't mean that you have to listen to them.
Sometimes, though, society has it right and wrong is wrong.
The ice was just what she needed, to make this hot day perfect. She took three cubes and dropped them in her lemonade, put on her sunglasses, and played it cool.
This was NOT what she meant to happen, what she wanted. Tears would have been the next step, but she didn't want anyone to see them. So she covered her eyes, to hide them from the world.
It's hide-and-go-seek, and I have the perfect spot: inside the cabinet high above my dad's workbench.
The basement is full of unused items: brooms, phones, swords, roses. From both classic and modern eras, these far-from priceless relics sit gathering dust until the next play.
I fight to live, but also to die. If I fight, I live. I also die. I have everything, yet nothing, at once. I know my strength, though not how it might be used—by myself or others, or by myself for others—in any fight. I am a gladiator. I am a slave.
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