my fare is $1
$1 to get from here to there
when I’m there
i heed $1 to get here again
i think i’ll just stay there.
liz maguire
This food tastes of sawdust, Radhrion grumbled, surreptitiously spitting a half-chewed hunk of somethign green into his napkin.
“It’s all we’ve got, and we’ve eaten worse over the last few months,” Merrill admonished, swallowing thickly around a hunk of what she thought might be bread.
Radhrion nodded his agreement, but left his plate untouched, choosing, instead, to observe the crowd.
Cate
One bus fare was all it took to have the magical moment of meeting you, blues playing in the street outside, the fragrance of incense thick inside, beneath all the Murano glass chandeliers and African masks, your leaf-shaped eyes on me as if looking away would be an unwelcome wake-up from a dream.
Ella Emma Em
“I only have enough bus fare to get to the next town, but it’s a few stops short of where I need to be. Any chance you could give me a lift?”
Serena peered curiously at the young Brit—Andy, he’d identified himself as—that stood on the sidewalk near her vehicle, tan duffel bag swung over his shoulder. Desperation was set in his deep blue eyes, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. Her heart went out to him, really, but she wasn’t in the habit of picking up strangers. No matter how handsome they were. “Which town are you going to, again? Frederick?”
“No, Germantown.” He shifted his bag to his other shoulder, not knowing that Serena was quietly impressed. She’d purposefully said the wrong name in order to see if he was telling the truth. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but–”
“Hop in. I’ll pop the trunk.” She smiled after he heaved a huge sigh of relief at her response. “Thank you so much, ma’am. I’m so grateful.”
Once Andy had placed his belongings in the back and got into the passenger side, she extended a hand towards him. “First order of business, don’t call me ‘ma’am’, it makes me feel like an old lady. It’s Serena.”
He laughed for the first time as he gave her a handshake, and Serena decided she liked the way Andy’s smile lightened up his whole face. “Noted. It’s nice to meet you, Serena.”
AJ Kenobi
“The bus fare was more than reasonable until Jeshti became the President. Now the price of everything keeps increasing like my blood pressure,” said Grandpa.
Shalini
the man stepped onto the bus and rifled through his pockets, trying to find enough change to make up the fare. the other passengers silently rolled their eyes and tutted under their breath, and the driver watched patiently for a few seconds before putting the bus back into gear and rolling away from the stop.
Glenn Cook
African fare for breakfast varies from the bland to the downright outrageous. Today in Liberia, it was definitely on the bland side and so I found myself munching on a few cucumber slices, and some bland, sad looking scrambled eggs before I opted for my tumbler of black coffee and journal outside, abandoning the quest for food altogether.
Gingerbread230
He was up before the first caw of the rooster, before the first touch of the sun.
“I’ll race you!” He always called over his shoulder to Giovanni, who grumbled and resumed his slow pace. He broke into a run as they reached the stone facade, although they were always early.
They slid into the wooden pews and Sandro folded his hands and crossed his thumbs. When he received the Eucharist, he turned his head. Just a few degrees, eyes still lowered to take in the altar server’s freckled cheekbones, his Roman nose and cupid bow lips. He held out the eucharistic plate, his reflection liquid gold. Sandro wished he was giving him the host, his forefinger was the one that brushed his lip instead of the priests.
Don’t stop with the host on my tongue, slide your fingers in too.
The host was raised, placed in his mouth. Each time he crossed himself and walked away back to the pew he wanted to fling away the flush on his face. Cast aside his thoughts like Judas throwing away blood money on the floor to say, please I’m just as disgusted with myself as you are, and I’d take my life before I did that again.
Rising at dawn was his blood money, his fare to Hell. He swapped the host for a glimpse. And each morning he slunk away from the altar, the papery taste of the Host in his mouth and grief and shame clawing up his chest.
But he wasn’t Judas: he couldn’t trade that desire for a glimpse like it was currency, pass the wish from hand to hand or fling it away. Just as he couldn’t change his height or the green of his eyes. It was a part of him: beat with his heart and were composed of his body as surely as his bones were.
Siobhan Anne Murray
I paid the fare, smiling at the man who took my money. “You’re not from around here, are ya?” I gave him a questioning look. “What gives you that, sir?” “The smile.”
I was quickly pushed, as more people handed over their fare. Far away, but with people still bumping into me, I was able to stop walking. I stared out into the sky, seeing nothing but the tall buildings for miles and miles. I was in love with what I was looking at, but nature had other plans. It poured down as I had to quickly find shelter, whispering to myself, that I was going to be fine here.
Fare is a word I don’t know the meaning of, but it sounds cool and sounds like Fahrenheit so it instantly is cool. As I previously stated, I do not know the meaning of fare, therefore I won’t write anything else about it. I just looked it up on some websites with questionable legitimacy, and apparently, fare means “tax” or “ticket”. I am now educated in the meaning of the word fare.
lucman27
she didnt have the fare to get on the bus, she had to walk in the 107 degree heat, sweat soaked through her shirt like she had jumped into a ice cool swimming pool
katia
When you money because you owe something.You pay money for a ride or even something that is not free.
Sakura
pay something like when you ride in a cab or even when you pay something you owe to somebody or something. It can also be a way when you pay to do or have something.
Zamyia
She pulled out as many quarters as she could find. She was still 50 cents short. Ooft. She looked at the toll taker apologetically.
My fare lady she had called me,
That was her nickname she used so lovingly,
Until the words ran cold, and it became a taunt,
From a girl that killed with her words so stunningly.
Elin
there was a train fare and i didn’t know whether he would pay for it or whether i would. i was fretting about it internally. i always fretted about small things like this and it meant that I was constantly worrying. I really needed to find some way to relax. I knew of one very effective way but it wasn’t the most recommended…
Want to ride in my silver taxi? Pay the fare upfront, and you’ll be well on your way to Anywhere: Any Time and Any Place. Feel like cruising to the other side of the city, where the lights pretend to be a little bit brighter. No extra cost, no extra bullsh**. Want a lobster dinner in the middle of the sea? This trusty cab can be a boat, if you please. Or maybe a rocket ship flight to the moon! I can build the wings if you pay me more soon.
Belinda Roddie
I had just picked up my fare at the corner of Elm and Woodacre. We had barely gone half the block when he pulled out a gun and aimed it at the back of my head. He gave me an address and erratic directions and told me to drive quickly.
What he didn’t realize is that I wanted to die, so I ignored him.
my fare is $1
$1 to get from here to there
when I’m there
i heed $1 to get here again
i think i’ll just stay there.
This food tastes of sawdust, Radhrion grumbled, surreptitiously spitting a half-chewed hunk of somethign green into his napkin.
“It’s all we’ve got, and we’ve eaten worse over the last few months,” Merrill admonished, swallowing thickly around a hunk of what she thought might be bread.
Radhrion nodded his agreement, but left his plate untouched, choosing, instead, to observe the crowd.
One bus fare was all it took to have the magical moment of meeting you, blues playing in the street outside, the fragrance of incense thick inside, beneath all the Murano glass chandeliers and African masks, your leaf-shaped eyes on me as if looking away would be an unwelcome wake-up from a dream.
“I only have enough bus fare to get to the next town, but it’s a few stops short of where I need to be. Any chance you could give me a lift?”
Serena peered curiously at the young Brit—Andy, he’d identified himself as—that stood on the sidewalk near her vehicle, tan duffel bag swung over his shoulder. Desperation was set in his deep blue eyes, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. Her heart went out to him, really, but she wasn’t in the habit of picking up strangers. No matter how handsome they were. “Which town are you going to, again? Frederick?”
“No, Germantown.” He shifted his bag to his other shoulder, not knowing that Serena was quietly impressed. She’d purposefully said the wrong name in order to see if he was telling the truth. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but–”
“Hop in. I’ll pop the trunk.” She smiled after he heaved a huge sigh of relief at her response. “Thank you so much, ma’am. I’m so grateful.”
Once Andy had placed his belongings in the back and got into the passenger side, she extended a hand towards him. “First order of business, don’t call me ‘ma’am’, it makes me feel like an old lady. It’s Serena.”
He laughed for the first time as he gave her a handshake, and Serena decided she liked the way Andy’s smile lightened up his whole face. “Noted. It’s nice to meet you, Serena.”
“The bus fare was more than reasonable until Jeshti became the President. Now the price of everything keeps increasing like my blood pressure,” said Grandpa.
the man stepped onto the bus and rifled through his pockets, trying to find enough change to make up the fare. the other passengers silently rolled their eyes and tutted under their breath, and the driver watched patiently for a few seconds before putting the bus back into gear and rolling away from the stop.
African fare for breakfast varies from the bland to the downright outrageous. Today in Liberia, it was definitely on the bland side and so I found myself munching on a few cucumber slices, and some bland, sad looking scrambled eggs before I opted for my tumbler of black coffee and journal outside, abandoning the quest for food altogether.
He was up before the first caw of the rooster, before the first touch of the sun.
“I’ll race you!” He always called over his shoulder to Giovanni, who grumbled and resumed his slow pace. He broke into a run as they reached the stone facade, although they were always early.
They slid into the wooden pews and Sandro folded his hands and crossed his thumbs. When he received the Eucharist, he turned his head. Just a few degrees, eyes still lowered to take in the altar server’s freckled cheekbones, his Roman nose and cupid bow lips. He held out the eucharistic plate, his reflection liquid gold. Sandro wished he was giving him the host, his forefinger was the one that brushed his lip instead of the priests.
Don’t stop with the host on my tongue, slide your fingers in too.
The host was raised, placed in his mouth. Each time he crossed himself and walked away back to the pew he wanted to fling away the flush on his face. Cast aside his thoughts like Judas throwing away blood money on the floor to say, please I’m just as disgusted with myself as you are, and I’d take my life before I did that again.
Rising at dawn was his blood money, his fare to Hell. He swapped the host for a glimpse. And each morning he slunk away from the altar, the papery taste of the Host in his mouth and grief and shame clawing up his chest.
But he wasn’t Judas: he couldn’t trade that desire for a glimpse like it was currency, pass the wish from hand to hand or fling it away. Just as he couldn’t change his height or the green of his eyes. It was a part of him: beat with his heart and were composed of his body as surely as his bones were.
I paid the fare, smiling at the man who took my money. “You’re not from around here, are ya?” I gave him a questioning look. “What gives you that, sir?” “The smile.”
I was quickly pushed, as more people handed over their fare. Far away, but with people still bumping into me, I was able to stop walking. I stared out into the sky, seeing nothing but the tall buildings for miles and miles. I was in love with what I was looking at, but nature had other plans. It poured down as I had to quickly find shelter, whispering to myself, that I was going to be fine here.
Fare is a word I don’t know the meaning of, but it sounds cool and sounds like Fahrenheit so it instantly is cool. As I previously stated, I do not know the meaning of fare, therefore I won’t write anything else about it. I just looked it up on some websites with questionable legitimacy, and apparently, fare means “tax” or “ticket”. I am now educated in the meaning of the word fare.
she didnt have the fare to get on the bus, she had to walk in the 107 degree heat, sweat soaked through her shirt like she had jumped into a ice cool swimming pool
When you money because you owe something.You pay money for a ride or even something that is not free.
pay something like when you ride in a cab or even when you pay something you owe to somebody or something. It can also be a way when you pay to do or have something.
She pulled out as many quarters as she could find. She was still 50 cents short. Ooft. She looked at the toll taker apologetically.
My fare lady she had called me,
That was her nickname she used so lovingly,
Until the words ran cold, and it became a taunt,
From a girl that killed with her words so stunningly.
there was a train fare and i didn’t know whether he would pay for it or whether i would. i was fretting about it internally. i always fretted about small things like this and it meant that I was constantly worrying. I really needed to find some way to relax. I knew of one very effective way but it wasn’t the most recommended…
Want to ride in my silver taxi? Pay the fare upfront, and you’ll be well on your way to Anywhere: Any Time and Any Place. Feel like cruising to the other side of the city, where the lights pretend to be a little bit brighter. No extra cost, no extra bullsh**. Want a lobster dinner in the middle of the sea? This trusty cab can be a boat, if you please. Or maybe a rocket ship flight to the moon! I can build the wings if you pay me more soon.
I had just picked up my fare at the corner of Elm and Woodacre. We had barely gone half the block when he pulled out a gun and aimed it at the back of my head. He gave me an address and erratic directions and told me to drive quickly.
What he didn’t realize is that I wanted to die, so I ignored him.