The gift was quite beautiful to look at. It was wrapped in shimmering, pear-white wrapping paper, and wrapped with a bubblegum pink bow. It was almost too pretty to open, honestly. Isii stared at it with wide eyes. It wasn’t even her birthday!
“Who’s it for, Mama?” she asked eagerly, turning her big blue eyes up to her mother’s confused face. She already knew the answer.
I took the peanut out of it’s shell. The roundness of it. The soft curve of the thing in my hand was soft, even in the hazy of the honey lager I’d been sipping for hours. I hate shelling peanuts. I hate it because it’s a lot of work for a little…..nut. This stupid, salty, chalky thing in my hand now. I bit down and chewed. It was alright, but when I thought back to the effort it only made me swallow. I reached for another. Rough…smooth inside but rough now. I knew it was a metaphor for something. But what? Fuck…I had no idea. The air was humid- drunkenly humid. The seedy bar lights seemed to swing but I had no idea if that was just my blundered mind making things wobbly. Peanuts….my dad liked peanuts. Liked to buy those big plastic jars and go fishing amongst them through the other variations: wal, chest, pine….myself? I liked the macademia. So little peeling for so much…nut.
More than anything, she wanted to be well-received. Well cared for. Well interpreted. Well, perhaps received wasn’t the right word. She wanted the words she worked to be the ones she meant, and she wanted those who heard to know exactly how she felt.
See, that’s why she was a writer.
I couldn’t just walk to him; I couldn’t just feel his presence alongside my body. I had to wait. I was too scared to confront him, so it was my only option. How could I lay out my feelings so easily? I went through the motions; I woke up and got out of bed. But the whole time, my mind was on him and when I would receive the answer I so desperately hoped for.
it was a long day. we were looking through every truck for the girl. we thought for sure she was lost. we thought that we would never find her. but then we got a message. the captain said that girl was on west broadway. so we went as fast as we could. we all piled into one car to save time. we found her. she was fine. and asking for her mom. we called her and said the girl had been recieved.
austin bessey
waiting for a box
disappointed with the gift
bad end to the day
I received as much torture as my body could endure until I died. I then went on to become not one but many cells. Cells of the entire universe. I was the entire universe and everything. One cannot explain this but it is true.
Francesca
I got something. A gift of sorts.
I got it from someone I know, though
they barely know me, not that doing so
all that much matters. But
I received this thing and that’s all I can give.
Cake. The best present ever. No girl wants underwear or laundry baskets for Christmas. Give her something she wants and craves. It makes her HAPPY.
kate
The students of the go one first fat dog lets run play seek find and run away and find a home less place and build it ip[ until we reach the world and we can spin dance run jump hide and seek just like we do when we were little kids and here in this marvelous world and lets take this time to show it forever
Katherine
According to my sister I receive to much. I get whatever I want, it’s like I’m an angel or something but she has no idea what she’s talking about. I’m no angel and I’ve never received anything that should make her think that.
It was a present like no other. Not to big, not to tiny; a perfect size and structure for a perfect kind of present. I couldn’t believed what it was, but i had a clue. But how? I don’t know, i just don’t. One day i would have to repay him.
kate
i received a present from the moose the other day. he bestowed upon my head a golden hoop that was tacky to the eye. yet something astonishing about this golden hoop was the warm pulse that slowly vibrated a magical glow.
janelle
Richard cast a suspicious glance at the brown-wrapped package lying on the kitchen table that he had just received in the afternoon mail. It was lumpy, foul-smelling, and had no return address, with a postmark from what he presumed to be Italy.
Grace
I was tired of the attention I always received from my older sister, it was never positive and almost felt like she hated me for finding out she was pregnant but I knew there was nothing I could do about it. That’s why I write. I write to get away from reality and into a fictional wonderland.
Strawberrry
With Christmas coming I find my mind consumed with ideas for Christmas presents. Not for me, but for the people I care about. There is nothing so rewarding as supplying someone with just the right present. It’s a special moment when you see their face and know you got it right.
Standing beside the mailbox, cold and lonely, Gerald thought about life, love, and, of course, kittens. There was no particular reason for him to stand there for as long as he did, but he was riveted to the spot with curiosity about the mysterious package that had just arrived with his name on it.
Grace
I received a gift,
It was something I did not recognize.
I did not know what to do with what I was given
But something about it gave me hope
That maybe one day I would use this
And it would change something inside of me
So I kept it in my shirt pocket
Your heart close to mine
So that one day, I would realize
I love you as much as you love me.
I received a ring from the man I love in February of 2011. I don’t think I will ever be as happy as I was that day until I steal his last name (:
Miranda
I received a letter from the dean. I wasn’t sure if it was for what I did, or if she knew what I was about to do. What would my friends say? Had I gone too far? It was only a matter of time.
Laura
When something is given, one must receive it. The past of “Receive”.
Victor
One day I looked in my mailbox and notice I had received an odd red envelope with my name scrawled on the front. There was no return address on it.
Riley P
i received the letter. the final letter he would ever send me. this is the end. the end of my husband. so many years and memories and all that he left me was this one letter, left on my bed for me after work.
megan
I wanted only a home, to be warmly received, a dark red housemat, a collared dog with a wagging tail, the sight of stairs in front of the doorway, the smell of kitchen spices. But his arms were good enough.
Myona
wind-waft through tall cedars set like chess pieces on gravity packed earth, flat, low, ecstatic: some monk doing ablutions by an old unused river mill. creaking.
a cup of orange juice and used it to clean the screen of my computer, it didnt end up too well but left a great fragrance in the room i was staying in. on the other hand i dont appreciate the pet ants i have now aquired as a result of my new chosen cleaning agent
ash
Yes, I received your warnings. I received them just like I received your rejection. But this was an accident, I swear! And I didn’t expect there to be so much blood…
i am a selfish little girl. my hands are dry and cold and small. i’ve been leeching your warmth for years, waiting for you to realize this.
my letters to you are copied from ballads and greeting cards. i can’t write about revolutions, or the sun rising. i can’t write about love or the beauty of kindness. i can’t even write about your smile.
there is nothing i can give you.
my poems will always be about myself. they are apology after apology, with newer, brighter words to cover up the same sorry sorries.
and i am a selfish little girl. you won’t want to hold my hands; they are the hands of a corpse, smeared in makeup. these apologies, i will never let you hear them.
I received news today. The kind I was expecting. It was frustrating in many ways. I have become accustomed to disappointing news of late, but I have not loss hope. It is what I believe in. Our indomitable spirit.
Sheila Good
i received some interesting news today,so i guess my work is closing down in a month. just my luck. ive been more stressed then ever lately and i don’t know what to do about it, my mom hold on to jesus for
stephanie
i will always remember receiving my first thing. Recieved is the past tense of recieve which means to accept something from someone or something else. I am recieving a loot of spelling mistakes from this.
Adam
It’s enough to know that you received a smile from the one you love best. It doesn’t matter that he’s gone off the deep end for your friend, it doesn’t matter that he’s got enough emotional issues to supply a small army. His smile is all that really counts.
She cared. She really cared. She gave it to me to remind me how much I meant to this world. Even in the darkest times, I mattered. Not matter how horrible the depression and anxieties got, I meant something to this world, and to the people in it. And I received it.
To get something. I received a package. Receiving and giving. Which is better? We all secretly like receiving don’t we?
I know that I do. But is that wrong? Or is it just me? How do you know
Kirby
it was the firs thing he’d ever gotten. it was strange. he’d never really thought of how it would feel to live like this, be like this, but here he was and there she was, and she was smiling and pointing very fondly at the the thing before him.
There was something on my doorstep. It wasn’t large, but it was big enough to be seen from the mouth of my subdivision. I thought it might be some kind of box, but as I came closer it’s edges came into focus. It was curved and strange. For some reason, from someone, I had received a toaster.
I received a letter in the mail today. It was from my grandma. I thought she was dead. I thought she had died when I was ten. I am now twenty. But it was definitely in her handwriting. I opened it up. Inside, it read, “just know I am proud of you”. I was standing on the sidewalk where I’d picked up the mail and I started tearing up. It was embarrassing really, people were staring.
Ze'eva
“Are you alright?” I ask, smiling slightly and laying a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t,” She spits. She pushes my hand away, her eyes boring into mine. “I told you I don’t need your pity. I thought I made that loud and clear.”
The smile freezes on my face. “Message received,” I say.
i received nothing but pain and sorrow for the last few days and i’m really really getting sick of it. i know that i deserve better but i keep on going back and back until i cry and hurt my own feelings again. i don’t know what to do and it feels like i’m stuck in a loophole i can’t get out of… :(
The gift was quite beautiful to look at. It was wrapped in shimmering, pear-white wrapping paper, and wrapped with a bubblegum pink bow. It was almost too pretty to open, honestly. Isii stared at it with wide eyes. It wasn’t even her birthday!
“Who’s it for, Mama?” she asked eagerly, turning her big blue eyes up to her mother’s confused face. She already knew the answer.
I took the peanut out of it’s shell. The roundness of it. The soft curve of the thing in my hand was soft, even in the hazy of the honey lager I’d been sipping for hours. I hate shelling peanuts. I hate it because it’s a lot of work for a little…..nut. This stupid, salty, chalky thing in my hand now. I bit down and chewed. It was alright, but when I thought back to the effort it only made me swallow. I reached for another. Rough…smooth inside but rough now. I knew it was a metaphor for something. But what? Fuck…I had no idea. The air was humid- drunkenly humid. The seedy bar lights seemed to swing but I had no idea if that was just my blundered mind making things wobbly. Peanuts….my dad liked peanuts. Liked to buy those big plastic jars and go fishing amongst them through the other variations: wal, chest, pine….myself? I liked the macademia. So little peeling for so much…nut.
More than anything, she wanted to be well-received. Well cared for. Well interpreted. Well, perhaps received wasn’t the right word. She wanted the words she worked to be the ones she meant, and she wanted those who heard to know exactly how she felt.
See, that’s why she was a writer.
I was home. I was supposed to feel happy.
But I was more confused than ever.
I couldn’t just walk to him; I couldn’t just feel his presence alongside my body. I had to wait. I was too scared to confront him, so it was my only option. How could I lay out my feelings so easily? I went through the motions; I woke up and got out of bed. But the whole time, my mind was on him and when I would receive the answer I so desperately hoped for.
it was a long day. we were looking through every truck for the girl. we thought for sure she was lost. we thought that we would never find her. but then we got a message. the captain said that girl was on west broadway. so we went as fast as we could. we all piled into one car to save time. we found her. she was fine. and asking for her mom. we called her and said the girl had been recieved.
waiting for a box
disappointed with the gift
bad end to the day
I received as much torture as my body could endure until I died. I then went on to become not one but many cells. Cells of the entire universe. I was the entire universe and everything. One cannot explain this but it is true.
I got something. A gift of sorts.
I got it from someone I know, though
they barely know me, not that doing so
all that much matters. But
I received this thing and that’s all I can give.
Cake. The best present ever. No girl wants underwear or laundry baskets for Christmas. Give her something she wants and craves. It makes her HAPPY.
The students of the go one first fat dog lets run play seek find and run away and find a home less place and build it ip[ until we reach the world and we can spin dance run jump hide and seek just like we do when we were little kids and here in this marvelous world and lets take this time to show it forever
According to my sister I receive to much. I get whatever I want, it’s like I’m an angel or something but she has no idea what she’s talking about. I’m no angel and I’ve never received anything that should make her think that.
It was a present like no other. Not to big, not to tiny; a perfect size and structure for a perfect kind of present. I couldn’t believed what it was, but i had a clue. But how? I don’t know, i just don’t. One day i would have to repay him.
i received a present from the moose the other day. he bestowed upon my head a golden hoop that was tacky to the eye. yet something astonishing about this golden hoop was the warm pulse that slowly vibrated a magical glow.
Richard cast a suspicious glance at the brown-wrapped package lying on the kitchen table that he had just received in the afternoon mail. It was lumpy, foul-smelling, and had no return address, with a postmark from what he presumed to be Italy.
I was tired of the attention I always received from my older sister, it was never positive and almost felt like she hated me for finding out she was pregnant but I knew there was nothing I could do about it. That’s why I write. I write to get away from reality and into a fictional wonderland.
With Christmas coming I find my mind consumed with ideas for Christmas presents. Not for me, but for the people I care about. There is nothing so rewarding as supplying someone with just the right present. It’s a special moment when you see their face and know you got it right.
Standing beside the mailbox, cold and lonely, Gerald thought about life, love, and, of course, kittens. There was no particular reason for him to stand there for as long as he did, but he was riveted to the spot with curiosity about the mysterious package that had just arrived with his name on it.
I received a gift,
It was something I did not recognize.
I did not know what to do with what I was given
But something about it gave me hope
That maybe one day I would use this
And it would change something inside of me
So I kept it in my shirt pocket
Your heart close to mine
So that one day, I would realize
I love you as much as you love me.
I received a ring from the man I love in February of 2011. I don’t think I will ever be as happy as I was that day until I steal his last name (:
I received a letter from the dean. I wasn’t sure if it was for what I did, or if she knew what I was about to do. What would my friends say? Had I gone too far? It was only a matter of time.
When something is given, one must receive it. The past of “Receive”.
One day I looked in my mailbox and notice I had received an odd red envelope with my name scrawled on the front. There was no return address on it.
i received the letter. the final letter he would ever send me. this is the end. the end of my husband. so many years and memories and all that he left me was this one letter, left on my bed for me after work.
I wanted only a home, to be warmly received, a dark red housemat, a collared dog with a wagging tail, the sight of stairs in front of the doorway, the smell of kitchen spices. But his arms were good enough.
wind-waft through tall cedars set like chess pieces on gravity packed earth, flat, low, ecstatic: some monk doing ablutions by an old unused river mill. creaking.
i received information
that you are satisfied
and give me 90
i don’t know
should i believe you this time
i’d better thinking of my friends
they believe in me
they love me
and you’re
idk
a cup of orange juice and used it to clean the screen of my computer, it didnt end up too well but left a great fragrance in the room i was staying in. on the other hand i dont appreciate the pet ants i have now aquired as a result of my new chosen cleaning agent
Yes, I received your warnings. I received them just like I received your rejection. But this was an accident, I swear! And I didn’t expect there to be so much blood…
i am a selfish little girl. my hands are dry and cold and small. i’ve been leeching your warmth for years, waiting for you to realize this.
my letters to you are copied from ballads and greeting cards. i can’t write about revolutions, or the sun rising. i can’t write about love or the beauty of kindness. i can’t even write about your smile.
there is nothing i can give you.
my poems will always be about myself. they are apology after apology, with newer, brighter words to cover up the same sorry sorries.
and i am a selfish little girl. you won’t want to hold my hands; they are the hands of a corpse, smeared in makeup. these apologies, i will never let you hear them.
I received news today. The kind I was expecting. It was frustrating in many ways. I have become accustomed to disappointing news of late, but I have not loss hope. It is what I believe in. Our indomitable spirit.
i received some interesting news today,so i guess my work is closing down in a month. just my luck. ive been more stressed then ever lately and i don’t know what to do about it, my mom hold on to jesus for
i will always remember receiving my first thing. Recieved is the past tense of recieve which means to accept something from someone or something else. I am recieving a loot of spelling mistakes from this.
It’s enough to know that you received a smile from the one you love best. It doesn’t matter that he’s gone off the deep end for your friend, it doesn’t matter that he’s got enough emotional issues to supply a small army. His smile is all that really counts.
She cared. She really cared. She gave it to me to remind me how much I meant to this world. Even in the darkest times, I mattered. Not matter how horrible the depression and anxieties got, I meant something to this world, and to the people in it. And I received it.
To get something. I received a package. Receiving and giving. Which is better? We all secretly like receiving don’t we?
I know that I do. But is that wrong? Or is it just me? How do you know
it was the firs thing he’d ever gotten. it was strange. he’d never really thought of how it would feel to live like this, be like this, but here he was and there she was, and she was smiling and pointing very fondly at the the thing before him.
“you can sleep here”, she said.
There was something on my doorstep. It wasn’t large, but it was big enough to be seen from the mouth of my subdivision. I thought it might be some kind of box, but as I came closer it’s edges came into focus. It was curved and strange. For some reason, from someone, I had received a toaster.
I received a letter in the mail today. It was from my grandma. I thought she was dead. I thought she had died when I was ten. I am now twenty. But it was definitely in her handwriting. I opened it up. Inside, it read, “just know I am proud of you”. I was standing on the sidewalk where I’d picked up the mail and I started tearing up. It was embarrassing really, people were staring.
“Are you alright?” I ask, smiling slightly and laying a hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t,” She spits. She pushes my hand away, her eyes boring into mine. “I told you I don’t need your pity. I thought I made that loud and clear.”
The smile freezes on my face. “Message received,” I say.
i received nothing but pain and sorrow for the last few days and i’m really really getting sick of it. i know that i deserve better but i keep on going back and back until i cry and hurt my own feelings again. i don’t know what to do and it feels like i’m stuck in a loophole i can’t get out of… :(