She had placed the dolls in a corner so it looked like they were huddled, holding a meeting. I imagined them whispering our secrets, the things they had seen us do in the room, heard us talk about while our daughter was away.
Adebola Rayo
is the same about narrow thing
Jacqueline
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. When does one huddle? When are you huddled? It’s like to protect yourself from some external force.
Ensemble in a warm, together embrace beneath dirty clouds dripping along like desultory waterers as we hold, are held, help and fold away away from what’s above.
Phyllis Richardson
Huddled dark and damp but pleased of shelter the group stopped under the overhang and took stock. Things had deteriorated quickly once they’d left the car behind and didn’t look like picking up.
nick
Drops of rain pooled in the brim of Dustin’s hat. The weather was putting a dampener on his plans to impress Rosa. Power lines had come down in the storm and his tram had been delayed. He was half an hour late and sodden. He came to the junction of George and Francis Streets and he could see Rosa huddled underneath a bus shelter on the other side of the road. As he waved to get her attention the 393 to Coogee rounded the corner and sprayed him from head to foot with a muddy puddle.
It was cold. So cold. Bitter wind whipped our faces. We did what we could to keep warm, but we didn’t have much but ourselves. We huddled together our faces close, hoping, praying that this would make the cold a little less unbearable.
Cold. It was so cold. Our breath could be seen. We needed warmth and we only had each other. And so we huddled together. It was not much better, but it was comforting. And I think that’s what we needed. Comfort.
Cold. It was so cold. We need warmth and we were the only things here, and so we huddled for warmth. It was not much better, but it was comforting. I think that’s what we needed. Comfort.
Fiona
It was a thirteen hour journey, in a broken down matatu with no suspension. I sat over the back wheel and jarred with every bump and crack in the road. It was like being in a mixmaster, an endless cycle of being spun around the bus into a spicy concoction of women, babies, chickens and soldiers with AK47s. By the time I was ceremoniously bundled off onto the one long dusty street of Maun I was rattled and starving. I had to pee. Desperately.
Not sure I could hold on another minute I looked around anxiously for anywhere to go. No trees, three buildings with closed doors and a group of kids huddled over a nest of scorpions. Jesus.
As he left, he noticed a bunch of reporters huddled on the street just outside the entrance. He went over and asked one he knew; “What’s going on?” “We don’t know!” was the exasperated response. “Absolutely nobody is talking! But something big is happening.”
“If nobody’s talking, how do you know something is happening?” Ohara asked him, half amused, half curious.
“Because no one is talking! All our usual sources just shut us off, everybody, completely, and all at once. It could be the anything, but everybody’s saying nothing.”
tonykeyesjapan
it’s cold isn’t it and it feels nice doesn’t it
huddled, the word, looks like it’s really huddled
funny how some words are great representations
and some are not
like chair
Tish Dela Cruz
CRASH! The walls collapse to our left, and the brewery falls to the demons. Huddled behind a stack of boxes, we barely avoid losing heads to the burning truck that blows over the shelter. I shoulder my gun. I counted last night. Three bullets. Remmy and Torin look up at me for answers. I can barely see their eyes for the dirt streaking their faces.
She sat in the corner, huddled beneath a pile of putrid, dripping rags with her knees up to her chin. Her body ached all over, lesions piled atop bruises pulling and tugging with every shallow breath.
The group huddled together one last time before departure. It wasn’t the last time they’d see each other, that empty promise was one thrown around far too often those past few months. The air was just beginning to get a taste of autumn on the edge of it.
Laura
i was huddley up to my best friend to get warm and fast sorry
kassy
The man was huddled on the ground. He didn’t understand why he felt the way he did, but he knew it wasn’t good. All he wanted was a normal life, but he couldn’t help feeling that something was missing.
Andy
She huddled closer to the fire burning in front of her, wrapping her jacket as tightly as she could around herself. Winter had come, and she knew she would either need to find better camping equipment or better shelter before the snow began to fall. The cold was piercing her skin, dulling her senses but never letting sleep come. It was torturous.
i am stuck in aroom the end yay MOOOT peace out yo feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssshhhhhh lololololololololololololand thats all folks
nick
Usairways is the worst airline
Olga
It was the breath that lingered a little too long under an umbrella in the midst of the throng. Mist and fog :: heady with the scent of honeysuckle vine entwined with lilies and twine…………………
I huddled close to the tree behind me. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t speak. All I could do was hide. Never had I thought I could be stuck in a situation like this. Alone, scared, and worse of all hunted. I never knew life could turn out this way.
Rosa
They huddled together, obviously planning something. That was not a good sign. Usually, they came up with something destructive, although in the end, it was more destructive to themselves than to anyone else.
gather round and compromise
talk ourselves blue in the face
it’s all for nothing
the course is set
wing it while we can
but theres no where else to go
except the untapped recesses
of our hopes
Protean
The team huddled at first base, ready to start their tradition chant and dance to kick off the game. Baseball caps with pony tails sticking out the back, long braids running down backs.
The group huddled together in the dustiest part of the ruins, where the clouds of dirt lifted up enough to block their view from the gharish outside world. Her throat rough from the ash and particles of debris from the destroyed nearby barracks, Errin began to speak to her companions with urgency and determination.
“We move out at sunset,” she ordered. “It’s too dangerous here to stay. In another couple of hours, the government forces will be rushing through.”
Belinda Roddie
“Give me these tired, these poor, these huddled masses, yearning to breathe free…….But only if you are NOT a child or an immigrant from Latin America….because we are Americans and we can’t let just anyone in”…. so said the latest presidential hopeful hop-skipping through Texas.
“But Rick,” said his campaign manager a bit plaintively, “I’m afraid you’re going to sound like a bit of a jerk!”
Chana
As the campers huddled together for warmth, the unrelenting storm raged outside the seemingly flimsy tent. Who know that an innocent, fun getaway would turn into a trip for survival.
Larissa
The penguins stood huddled together during the long attack. The planes up above shot missiles at them every few seconds, and penguins died left and right. They didn’t understand why this was happening to them, didn’t know why they were being attacked. But the pilots knew that it was because the government wanted every last animal gone, every last bit of life, every last adorable thing, every last bit of hope…gone.
Miste
The Children huddled in the corner, crouching away from the light and the strange creature it bore. They shivered against the darkness and yet shied away from the ever encroaching warmth of sunlight. They huddled to survive. They huddled for life.
Emily Jane Knight
Cecilia was huddled in the corner of her room. It was night now, she had been there since morning doing one thing, and one thing only.. reading. Fan fiction. It was her secret guilty pleasure she shared with no one.
Ari
Quiet and soft, in the corner beneath their despair, their eyes pleading questions as they show their utmost pain. This is really stupid, but you’re supposed to keep writing, sooooooo…okay. Warm fireside. That is were we were huddled, determined so much to keep ourselves huddled. There, good enough?
Mckay
the team was huddled at halftime. they were down by 20 points and the outlook looked bleak. they had everything riding on this game; it was the playoffs. One game is all you get to prove your worth, your value.
DF
They all huddled together in their short time together in the time-out. The coach barked orders at them, but Greg knew what needed to be done already to win this. After they split, Greg whispered to each of them as he walked past their new orders.
Although they won, the coach was pissed about it.
Will Robbins
they all huddled together, their heads meeting towards the middle.
“so, what’s the plan?” sierra asked.
“plan?” alana repeated. “there is no plan. we’re just going to go out there and make them get married.”
“no, there has to be a plan,” peter said, immediately latching on sierra’s side.
“they don’t have to get married,” jonathan sighed. “they don’t even have a romantic relationship yet.”
“are you seeing the same people i am?” alana shrieked towards her brother.
Die Masse erdrückt dich,
weißt wie du ihr entfliehen kannst.
Überall Menschen
und es gibt kein entkommen.
Du willst weg,
ihnen allen entkommen.
Versuchst zu fliehen,
doch lässt die Masse –
dich nicht gehen.
Anuri
Gfhtfmghcmghvhvh
Kelly
The group of people huddled together in the dank cave.
John raised his head, praying for someone – anyone – to find them. To find them. Or at least for the roof to come crashing down and put all of them out of their misery.
The floor was moist, and so was the air. Water dripped from stalactites jutting out of the ceiling like icicles.
Penny
The three orphans were huddled together next to the dying fire for warmth. After months of planning, they had finally escaped from their retched foster mother.
Mary
Small, bedraggled lumps of soaking wet rags. The children crouched beneath the bridge, and through the scope of my military-issued sniper rifle, I could even see the way the light glinted off the tears sliding down the bridges of their noses.
God. God. I can’t do this. I can’t. It feels like it’s raining, but I realize: it’s tears. I’m sobbing. The drops slide down my grizzled, scarred, unshaven face; they snag in the bristles of day-old stubble.
She had placed the dolls in a corner so it looked like they were huddled, holding a meeting. I imagined them whispering our secrets, the things they had seen us do in the room, heard us talk about while our daughter was away.
is the same about narrow thing
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. When does one huddle? When are you huddled? It’s like to protect yourself from some external force.
Ensemble in a warm, together embrace beneath dirty clouds dripping along like desultory waterers as we hold, are held, help and fold away away from what’s above.
Huddled dark and damp but pleased of shelter the group stopped under the overhang and took stock. Things had deteriorated quickly once they’d left the car behind and didn’t look like picking up.
Drops of rain pooled in the brim of Dustin’s hat. The weather was putting a dampener on his plans to impress Rosa. Power lines had come down in the storm and his tram had been delayed. He was half an hour late and sodden. He came to the junction of George and Francis Streets and he could see Rosa huddled underneath a bus shelter on the other side of the road. As he waved to get her attention the 393 to Coogee rounded the corner and sprayed him from head to foot with a muddy puddle.
It was cold. So cold. Bitter wind whipped our faces. We did what we could to keep warm, but we didn’t have much but ourselves. We huddled together our faces close, hoping, praying that this would make the cold a little less unbearable.
Cold. It was so cold. Our breath could be seen. We needed warmth and we only had each other. And so we huddled together. It was not much better, but it was comforting. And I think that’s what we needed. Comfort.
Cold. It was so cold. We need warmth and we were the only things here, and so we huddled for warmth. It was not much better, but it was comforting. I think that’s what we needed. Comfort.
It was a thirteen hour journey, in a broken down matatu with no suspension. I sat over the back wheel and jarred with every bump and crack in the road. It was like being in a mixmaster, an endless cycle of being spun around the bus into a spicy concoction of women, babies, chickens and soldiers with AK47s. By the time I was ceremoniously bundled off onto the one long dusty street of Maun I was rattled and starving. I had to pee. Desperately.
Not sure I could hold on another minute I looked around anxiously for anywhere to go. No trees, three buildings with closed doors and a group of kids huddled over a nest of scorpions. Jesus.
As he left, he noticed a bunch of reporters huddled on the street just outside the entrance. He went over and asked one he knew; “What’s going on?” “We don’t know!” was the exasperated response. “Absolutely nobody is talking! But something big is happening.”
“If nobody’s talking, how do you know something is happening?” Ohara asked him, half amused, half curious.
“Because no one is talking! All our usual sources just shut us off, everybody, completely, and all at once. It could be the anything, but everybody’s saying nothing.”
it’s cold isn’t it and it feels nice doesn’t it
huddled, the word, looks like it’s really huddled
funny how some words are great representations
and some are not
like chair
CRASH! The walls collapse to our left, and the brewery falls to the demons. Huddled behind a stack of boxes, we barely avoid losing heads to the burning truck that blows over the shelter. I shoulder my gun. I counted last night. Three bullets. Remmy and Torin look up at me for answers. I can barely see their eyes for the dirt streaking their faces.
Three bullets. Make ’em count.
She sat in the corner, huddled beneath a pile of putrid, dripping rags with her knees up to her chin. Her body ached all over, lesions piled atop bruises pulling and tugging with every shallow breath.
The group huddled together one last time before departure. It wasn’t the last time they’d see each other, that empty promise was one thrown around far too often those past few months. The air was just beginning to get a taste of autumn on the edge of it.
i was huddley up to my best friend to get warm and fast sorry
The man was huddled on the ground. He didn’t understand why he felt the way he did, but he knew it wasn’t good. All he wanted was a normal life, but he couldn’t help feeling that something was missing.
She huddled closer to the fire burning in front of her, wrapping her jacket as tightly as she could around herself. Winter had come, and she knew she would either need to find better camping equipment or better shelter before the snow began to fall. The cold was piercing her skin, dulling her senses but never letting sleep come. It was torturous.
i am stuck in aroom the end yay MOOOT peace out yo feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssshhhhhh lololololololololololololand thats all folks
Usairways is the worst airline
It was the breath that lingered a little too long under an umbrella in the midst of the throng. Mist and fog :: heady with the scent of honeysuckle vine entwined with lilies and twine…………………
I huddled close to the tree behind me. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t speak. All I could do was hide. Never had I thought I could be stuck in a situation like this. Alone, scared, and worse of all hunted. I never knew life could turn out this way.
They huddled together, obviously planning something. That was not a good sign. Usually, they came up with something destructive, although in the end, it was more destructive to themselves than to anyone else.
gather round and compromise
talk ourselves blue in the face
it’s all for nothing
the course is set
wing it while we can
but theres no where else to go
except the untapped recesses
of our hopes
The team huddled at first base, ready to start their tradition chant and dance to kick off the game. Baseball caps with pony tails sticking out the back, long braids running down backs.
The group huddled together in the dustiest part of the ruins, where the clouds of dirt lifted up enough to block their view from the gharish outside world. Her throat rough from the ash and particles of debris from the destroyed nearby barracks, Errin began to speak to her companions with urgency and determination.
“We move out at sunset,” she ordered. “It’s too dangerous here to stay. In another couple of hours, the government forces will be rushing through.”
“Give me these tired, these poor, these huddled masses, yearning to breathe free…….But only if you are NOT a child or an immigrant from Latin America….because we are Americans and we can’t let just anyone in”…. so said the latest presidential hopeful hop-skipping through Texas.
“But Rick,” said his campaign manager a bit plaintively, “I’m afraid you’re going to sound like a bit of a jerk!”
As the campers huddled together for warmth, the unrelenting storm raged outside the seemingly flimsy tent. Who know that an innocent, fun getaway would turn into a trip for survival.
The penguins stood huddled together during the long attack. The planes up above shot missiles at them every few seconds, and penguins died left and right. They didn’t understand why this was happening to them, didn’t know why they were being attacked. But the pilots knew that it was because the government wanted every last animal gone, every last bit of life, every last adorable thing, every last bit of hope…gone.
The Children huddled in the corner, crouching away from the light and the strange creature it bore. They shivered against the darkness and yet shied away from the ever encroaching warmth of sunlight. They huddled to survive. They huddled for life.
Cecilia was huddled in the corner of her room. It was night now, she had been there since morning doing one thing, and one thing only.. reading. Fan fiction. It was her secret guilty pleasure she shared with no one.
Quiet and soft, in the corner beneath their despair, their eyes pleading questions as they show their utmost pain. This is really stupid, but you’re supposed to keep writing, sooooooo…okay. Warm fireside. That is were we were huddled, determined so much to keep ourselves huddled. There, good enough?
the team was huddled at halftime. they were down by 20 points and the outlook looked bleak. they had everything riding on this game; it was the playoffs. One game is all you get to prove your worth, your value.
They all huddled together in their short time together in the time-out. The coach barked orders at them, but Greg knew what needed to be done already to win this. After they split, Greg whispered to each of them as he walked past their new orders.
Although they won, the coach was pissed about it.
they all huddled together, their heads meeting towards the middle.
“so, what’s the plan?” sierra asked.
“plan?” alana repeated. “there is no plan. we’re just going to go out there and make them get married.”
“no, there has to be a plan,” peter said, immediately latching on sierra’s side.
“they don’t have to get married,” jonathan sighed. “they don’t even have a romantic relationship yet.”
“are you seeing the same people i am?” alana shrieked towards her brother.
Die Masse erdrückt dich,
weißt wie du ihr entfliehen kannst.
Überall Menschen
und es gibt kein entkommen.
Du willst weg,
ihnen allen entkommen.
Versuchst zu fliehen,
doch lässt die Masse –
dich nicht gehen.
Gfhtfmghcmghvhvh
The group of people huddled together in the dank cave.
John raised his head, praying for someone – anyone – to find them. To find them. Or at least for the roof to come crashing down and put all of them out of their misery.
The floor was moist, and so was the air. Water dripped from stalactites jutting out of the ceiling like icicles.
The three orphans were huddled together next to the dying fire for warmth. After months of planning, they had finally escaped from their retched foster mother.
Small, bedraggled lumps of soaking wet rags. The children crouched beneath the bridge, and through the scope of my military-issued sniper rifle, I could even see the way the light glinted off the tears sliding down the bridges of their noses.
God. God. I can’t do this. I can’t. It feels like it’s raining, but I realize: it’s tears. I’m sobbing. The drops slide down my grizzled, scarred, unshaven face; they snag in the bristles of day-old stubble.
I squeeze the trigger.
Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop.
Eighteen times.
When I get home I’ll put the barrel in my own mouth.