Rafters are high up. Things hiding in the rafters. Rafters could be people on life rafts. Rafting away. Rafters are wooden, or metal, beams in the ceiling. Well, not in the ceiling. Below the ceiling, supporting it and the walls.
Jonzzfi
Rafters are in my house. I can hide things in the rafters. I can hide myself in the rafters. They are a place of protection and strength. I like to think that I could be a rafter for someone else.
Stacey
I met rafters on the the side of the river they told me a story about their hunt.
wright
Sting sat there on the rafters looking down at what was going on. There’s nothing he could do. All he could do was watch and wait. Wait for one the McMan’s to call him in. Until then all he could was wait in the rafters and watch.
LilDevyl
Rafters bring to mind memories,
the kind you’d pay someone bury
with a bloody shovel on a half moon’s night:
no one likes to see the skeletons.
No one likes to be reminded of the death
it took to birth you, as you are now –
take away the screaming, the placenta,
the blood-soaked umbilical cord,
because life is glamorous and
you are now as a miracle…
a fortuitous clash of supernova dust
come packaged in a way that won’t chip nails
or turn stomachs.
Just smile and sit pretty – but not too pretty,
and not too boring, and a bit alluring but not too sexy,
and remember that a “real” woman doesn’t have anything
that a man can steal because she owns herself completely.
You are not with the responsibility
of celebration, no mourning your grave,
no wearing your skeleton inside out.
Bury that stuff with a shovel,
to the back of a new moon’s night,
because a miracle is not a crime scene,
and you don’t get to wonder over justice.
Roger’s never been able to climb onto the rafters, what with being in a wheelchair and all, but he’s always wondered what it’d look like to see the theatre from down below. There’s always been a small, childlike part of him that wants to ask Jack or Heather to describe it all in great detail, but it all feels so unnecessarily embarrassing.
Liza kept walking up the stairs to the attic. She was quite determined to steal the neighbours’ large rubber boat that was big enough for six rafters. She knew that they keep the bat on the attic rafters. The question was where the hell the plug is and how could she inflate the thing again.
rafters go on a roof I help my dad install rafters on his shed and his feinds house fafters are what hold shingles on a roof
Mateo
Mistletoe hung from the rafters like green and red confetti. She stared up at it. How was she ever going to get it down? She grabbed a latter but it was over her head still. He came over with a pressure washer. “I can help for $50.
Danielle
Thirty days of distance left, and I want you to shout it to the rafters of the sky if you love me. I can’t hear you otherwise, and if I can’t hear you, I don’t believe it to be true.
Ella Emma Em
The rafters above us have vines made of ropes. A deep look in your eyes tells me you’ve been wanting a new tie all along. You were just waiting for me to recognize the impulse you needed to act on, so I took off your belt and lassoed a beam. Whispered in your ear and said, “No, asphyxiation up there if your knees are down here.” I let the slacks fall to the ground as your heart pounds all around, oh-so loud, oh-so near. Death takes all shapes it seems.
I’ll be the...
THE RAFTERS RAFTED DOWN STREAM.
WRIGHT
She stared at the ceiling, counting slowly down from 10. The time was now. But she wasn’t ready. She exhaled. Alright. Here we go.
I found herself standing on the rafters long after the concert was over, observing the gymnasium lights as they flickered on and off and on and off again. I lugged my trombone with me, ascending the steps to the tops of the bleachers, and stared up.
“You’re gonna fall and die, you know.”
She laughed, straddling the beam. “Just don’t call me a quirky girl for this, okay? I just have issues.”
Belinda Roddie
All the rafters hold my past, my stories and my secrets. They bubble up and stay there, stuck among the wooden beams, weighted down by my regrets, but stuck by indecisiveness.
Maria Langat
Theo didn’t see Liam at first, but by the time he finally realized where his boyfriend was hiding, he had fallen from the attic rafters.
“You idiot!” Theo gasps once he can breathe again as Liam groans, having landed on his back in a weird, twisted position.
“Oh, come on, that could have been a great hiding spot! This wood is weak as hell.”
Em
The challenge was getting out of the water. Getting in was the easy part. We belted the ropes together in the chaotic waters and hoisted each other into each raft as the current angrily pushed us away from the docks. I had my life vest secured tightly and my gear was ready for the adventure ahead. My heart pounded in my chest; but this didn’t stop me from confronting my fear of white river water rafting at all.
Rafters are high up. Things hiding in the rafters. Rafters could be people on life rafts. Rafting away. Rafters are wooden, or metal, beams in the ceiling. Well, not in the ceiling. Below the ceiling, supporting it and the walls.
Rafters are in my house. I can hide things in the rafters. I can hide myself in the rafters. They are a place of protection and strength. I like to think that I could be a rafter for someone else.
I met rafters on the the side of the river they told me a story about their hunt.
Sting sat there on the rafters looking down at what was going on. There’s nothing he could do. All he could do was watch and wait. Wait for one the McMan’s to call him in. Until then all he could was wait in the rafters and watch.
Rafters bring to mind memories,
the kind you’d pay someone bury
with a bloody shovel on a half moon’s night:
no one likes to see the skeletons.
No one likes to be reminded of the death
it took to birth you, as you are now –
take away the screaming, the placenta,
the blood-soaked umbilical cord,
because life is glamorous and
you are now as a miracle…
a fortuitous clash of supernova dust
come packaged in a way that won’t chip nails
or turn stomachs.
Just smile and sit pretty – but not too pretty,
and not too boring, and a bit alluring but not too sexy,
and remember that a “real” woman doesn’t have anything
that a man can steal because she owns herself completely.
You are not with the responsibility
of celebration, no mourning your grave,
no wearing your skeleton inside out.
Bury that stuff with a shovel,
to the back of a new moon’s night,
because a miracle is not a crime scene,
and you don’t get to wonder over justice.
Roger’s never been able to climb onto the rafters, what with being in a wheelchair and all, but he’s always wondered what it’d look like to see the theatre from down below. There’s always been a small, childlike part of him that wants to ask Jack or Heather to describe it all in great detail, but it all feels so unnecessarily embarrassing.
Liza kept walking up the stairs to the attic. She was quite determined to steal the neighbours’ large rubber boat that was big enough for six rafters. She knew that they keep the bat on the attic rafters. The question was where the hell the plug is and how could she inflate the thing again.
rafters go on a roof I help my dad install rafters on his shed and his feinds house fafters are what hold shingles on a roof
Mistletoe hung from the rafters like green and red confetti. She stared up at it. How was she ever going to get it down? She grabbed a latter but it was over her head still. He came over with a pressure washer. “I can help for $50.
Thirty days of distance left, and I want you to shout it to the rafters of the sky if you love me. I can’t hear you otherwise, and if I can’t hear you, I don’t believe it to be true.
The rafters above us have vines made of ropes. A deep look in your eyes tells me you’ve been wanting a new tie all along. You were just waiting for me to recognize the impulse you needed to act on, so I took off your belt and lassoed a beam. Whispered in your ear and said, “No, asphyxiation up there if your knees are down here.” I let the slacks fall to the ground as your heart pounds all around, oh-so loud, oh-so near. Death takes all shapes it seems.
THE RAFTERS RAFTED DOWN STREAM.
She stared at the ceiling, counting slowly down from 10. The time was now. But she wasn’t ready. She exhaled. Alright. Here we go.
I entered a big hall. All over the roof, I could see the rafters on it.
I see rafters with my roof. They are solid and also give a look to my house.
Rafting is fun and there are many rafters who make it as a passion.
I found herself standing on the rafters long after the concert was over, observing the gymnasium lights as they flickered on and off and on and off again. I lugged my trombone with me, ascending the steps to the tops of the bleachers, and stared up.
“You’re gonna fall and die, you know.”
She laughed, straddling the beam. “Just don’t call me a quirky girl for this, okay? I just have issues.”
All the rafters hold my past, my stories and my secrets. They bubble up and stay there, stuck among the wooden beams, weighted down by my regrets, but stuck by indecisiveness.
Theo didn’t see Liam at first, but by the time he finally realized where his boyfriend was hiding, he had fallen from the attic rafters.
“You idiot!” Theo gasps once he can breathe again as Liam groans, having landed on his back in a weird, twisted position.
“Oh, come on, that could have been a great hiding spot! This wood is weak as hell.”
The challenge was getting out of the water. Getting in was the easy part. We belted the ropes together in the chaotic waters and hoisted each other into each raft as the current angrily pushed us away from the docks. I had my life vest secured tightly and my gear was ready for the adventure ahead. My heart pounded in my chest; but this didn’t stop me from confronting my fear of white river water rafting at all.