witchelemental
She stood on the top of the stump, and surveyed her kingdom. The dolls were thrown in clumps and heaps around the sandbox. Three paper kittens, battered and worn, were lined up to attention. She was in charge, no matter what her brother had said. But where were her shoes?
She was saved! The boat was coming closer - she could see faces now, as she bobbed up and down on her small round floater. She had drifted so long after leaving the buoys marking the beach, she had feared being caught up in one of the major ocean currents and never making it back to land.
In the opening flashback, the boy next to her reached over and took her hand. She was flustered, and flattered; how does one deal with an unexpected hand-holding? Unfortunately, the moment was blown a few seconds later when the girl sitting next to him discovered his errant move - as the next scene started in the film, popcorn flew all over her from the box upended over his head.
Instead of building fences, Cheryl decided to plant flowers. Tall ones - sunflowers, calla lilies, flowering bushes. That way, her neighbours would know the boundaries, but not be afraid to talk. And her cats would have a place to play.
The nun pressed a loaf of bread into my trembling, dirty hands. I looked up into a severe, yet kind face, shadowed by the black wimple. Her eyes were sparkling, and suddenly she smiled. It was too much.
It took a thousand miles before I felt better about the choice I had made. The road flying by under my wheels, the birds wheeling in the air, the music blaring out the open windows - when I saw the town sign flash by, I knew I had made the right decision. Finally. But would they also understand?
I made cookies today, for the first time in just about a year. I used a mix, because I don't know where my mixer is, and it only called for margarine and water. I'm hoping they taste good. I almost burned them. Should I have added an extra cup of chocolate chips?
Her first job in highschool was as a maid. She enjoyed the work, some of the time. She liked making beds neatly, and collecting the tips. But she detested some of the messes, and the creepy things that people left behind. Her perspective changed, however, the day she found the doll under the bed.
Suddenly, the power went off. I started, gasping, and scrambled in the drawer next to the bed for my spare candle and matches. Then, just as I touched the waxy base I felt rough fingers touch the back of my hand. This time, I screamed.
I chose the large vase with the watercolour roses painted on the enamel sides. It was perfect for my grandmother's funeral arrangement. When I brought it home, though, I didn't want to give it up - I put it at the back of my cupboard, so I would "forget" about it until afterwards.
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writing since 2010 · 23 entries · 22 days shown up
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yourselfcominghandsatroundsurfacefacedriftedwornpawnchoicegameplaychargetipunexpected