She slid the tray down the cafeteria line
three metal bars, gleaming, strangely, since to her it seemed that the cafeteria hadn’t been cleaned in ages
The floor was tiled tan
She slid the tray on, picked up a teal-speckled folded-paper dish of baked beans, and pulled out her wallet.
Why am i paying for this?
Olivia
my grandfather always sat in his lazy boy with his wooden food tray. all day long. all night long. with his grapefruit and hairy chest. i remember the smell. the look in his eyes as they were glazed over staring insanely at the television. fun times
grandpa
She delivered it to me on a tray as if to say “by your request my lord”. I took the the document with a wry look at her and said thanks. What a pleasant way to end a marriage.
ang G
There was a tray full of food — all kinds of decadence tempting me away from my diet. The silver tray held chocolate truffles, dainty cookies, nuts, scones . . . it seemed to never end. Would I give in to the te
Dianne
i was walking in the cafeteria minding my own business when out of no where i ended up in the air and suddenly found myself on my face. what had i fallen on? a tray. dang it, i always joked about this happening to me but never thought it would.
brittany
I hate trays. They’re so constricting. Only certain foods can go in certain spots. I want to decide what I eat and from where. And cleaning them? Pain in the ass. I want a plate. Or even a bowl. I’d rather eat off the floor.
Sam
trey is crazy he is a psycho. but i cant spell dont think he cares i call him crazy cause he knows he is crazy yup
dogg
a tray of sushi and a glass of wine would sure be good about now, if only i wasn’t so tired
Mary Lou Wynegar
the tray sits along the window sill balancing just so until the cat comes along and disturbs it…
Mary Lou Wynegar
brilliant. never thought of anything of this sort. never heard of something like this before. ingenious. it actually is hard to put down all thoughts in 60 secs. or there is just too much to say.
Anonymous
the tray is long and sits sideways along a windsill balancing just so until the cat disturbs it
Anonymous
word of the day is the day of the sky that is in the high world above us in our daily lives…i can’t believe it’s here why is the sky up high why am i down here? wondering thoughts & countless questions surround my foolish mind
boa
tray of cheese at a swanky party. i wonder what kind of man trey will become. he’ll probably cheat on his wife. whay am i being mean? a tra holds up, supports little knick knacks and pollywogs.
Anonymous
I grabbed my tray in the line at the school cafeteria. It was filled with bland and colorless food. Still I had to eat lunch for the day, so I took the tray.
I searched the cafeteria for anyone I knew. I hated this part of the daily lunch time scene.
dd
Trays can hold lots of things. Like food. Sometimes you bring food to people in bed on trays. Or maybe when you’re eating out the waitors bring you your food on a tray. If you’re lucky enough you might go somewhere where you get food and take it to your seat yourself, on a tray.
Anonymous
i have a breakfast tray in my kitchen. i use it on mothers day when i make breakfast for my mom. she loves it. i do it every year. another tray in my house is one i use to hold my laptop when i sit down and want to go on the computer. what else is there to write about a tray?…..
JQ
he lifts the tray up and runs himself through the lunchline in his dead end job at the hospital.
he couldn’t save lives even if he tried, and he had stopped trying years ago.
kaitlyn.
I used blue ones in elementary school. The grease rings from the pizza remained behind. I was fat, and my tray was cleared before anyone else’s.
My high school used to have big white trays.
they became inconvenient and expensive, so they got rid of them.
Tarles Makely
nice place for a rose in a vase to be placed by my lover, awaiting my arrival, and some chocolate strawberries, also.
jj
Title: Recurring Tray.
THe setting was familiar. Just like that time twenty years ago, I get to see the woman I love, in the same diner. Her eyes are as beautiful as they were then, same hue and her hair shines the same way. Oh how lovely she was then. And how lovely she is again.
I remove the food off of the metal tray. And I hit her the same way I did twenty years ago. The blood flies the same way, splatters the same way. Her eyes scorn me the same way. And she dies the same way. Well…not the exact same, sure a generation off but her image nevertheless.
Eric Harrell
She carried the tray over to the table. The weight of if clearly straining her wrist.
“Do you need a water refill?” she asked, wincing.
I shook my head no, and reengaged myself in conversation with my partner in crime.
Anonymous
tray
Anonymous
you carry things on it. its a douchy name for rich guys like the husband on sex and the city but i dont think its spelled like that.
for some reason im remembering NYU’s dining halls and taking the trey to this cool conveyer belt. we have those at miami so im not sure why i was thinking of the nyu one.
Kristin
I baked cookies this morning. This batch was much better than the one I’d made yesterday, despite the fact that the dough was much stickier. It clung tightly to my fingers and refused to come off until I ran my hands under the faucet, letting the globs of vanilla-flour-chocolate-chip melt off my skin in ugly, unappetizing brown lumps.
Danielle
I stood wide-eyed next to the operating table, watching as the surgeon extracted a bloody bullet from the patient’s abdomen and dropped it into a small paper cup lying in the try beside the bed. That was the moment I decided to become a surgeon. Twelve years later, I’m not sure if it was the best idea.
vish
The waitress brought the tray to the table. On it was my order of a veritable orgasm of the tongue after what I had been through. Iraq wasn’t known for it’s cuisine.
Anonymous
The ashtray has my uncle’s ashes. His lungs burnt up his happiness and strength. Ironically he was a doctor. Maybe he should have diagnosed himself. It’s a disorder that is the unseen plague among those of frail composition. I mean that in the mental sense.
c sizzle
something that you would use during a time of eatting, i used a tray one during christmas time and it cracked because i put something too hot on it and it broke on the table over a plate of food for our guest and everyone began to laugh, a tray is something you use at a dinner to bring food to a
gina
Left alone on the tray, the lonely toothpick sighed. Why, oh why was I left here while my partnered food was taken away? We were inseperable. But, like a dirty whore, she left me. I feel wet and used.
Anonymous
The tray was filled with the most decadent desserts she’d ever set her eyes on. But the view across the table was even better than that. There he was, the one she’d waited for her whole life, sitting there waiting for her to say something.
Kimberley
i flicked my cigarette into the ash tray as he cast his sideways glance at me, trying to catch my eye. i blink, longing to keep my eyelids shut tight if only to avoid the sparkle that i know i’ll have to acknowledge if i meet his eyes.
sivan
carrying my heart on a silver platter
nothing will change
(nothing will be the same)
carrying my soul on a silver platter
rai
Ice cube tray, ice cubes with cherries, ice in party punch. Ah! Must be that season. Mistletoe, bells, peace on earth, the Savior is born! God is with us!
Deanna Christian
i struggle for balance.this tight skirt just won’t do,and the customer’s throwing dagger stares at me.eager for his cheap drink in one swallow.i balance the tray on my fingertips.this just won’t do.and i have to feed the children.
Peleterre
I like TV trays. They let me eat anywhere. I often make them dirty though. I don’t know why. TV dinners are messy…. And I’m no neat-freak…too bad my mom is. Haha poor Mama’s stuck with a messay daughter.
Karin
I remember sitting at the hospital in Zell Am See, visiting my Oma… We were sitting there, she had broken her arm, and I was taking pictures. There was an ashtray on the table… I photographed it in black & white, as well as a few shots of my mom and my oma. They both looked less than happy.
marissa b.
its a tray and it holds my food while i rumage around looking for utincles to help me eat the food it holds. it cures my awkward balance and unthinkingly helps me stay alive. Without it eating wouldnt quite me the same. neither would the trash clean up.
Itsmy firsttime.
my life on a silver platter
my soul for sale
isn’t that they way you want it to be?
kaeya :D
i once went to thespians convention with this guy named tray, he had his hands down his pants every time we got back to our room. it was very strange.
Tanner
A tray is something people put food on, or dispoese cigarettes. Like and ashTRAY. :)
She slid the tray down the cafeteria line
three metal bars, gleaming, strangely, since to her it seemed that the cafeteria hadn’t been cleaned in ages
The floor was tiled tan
She slid the tray on, picked up a teal-speckled folded-paper dish of baked beans, and pulled out her wallet.
Why am i paying for this?
my grandfather always sat in his lazy boy with his wooden food tray. all day long. all night long. with his grapefruit and hairy chest. i remember the smell. the look in his eyes as they were glazed over staring insanely at the television. fun times
She delivered it to me on a tray as if to say “by your request my lord”. I took the the document with a wry look at her and said thanks. What a pleasant way to end a marriage.
There was a tray full of food — all kinds of decadence tempting me away from my diet. The silver tray held chocolate truffles, dainty cookies, nuts, scones . . . it seemed to never end. Would I give in to the te
i was walking in the cafeteria minding my own business when out of no where i ended up in the air and suddenly found myself on my face. what had i fallen on? a tray. dang it, i always joked about this happening to me but never thought it would.
I hate trays. They’re so constricting. Only certain foods can go in certain spots. I want to decide what I eat and from where. And cleaning them? Pain in the ass. I want a plate. Or even a bowl. I’d rather eat off the floor.
trey is crazy he is a psycho. but i cant spell dont think he cares i call him crazy cause he knows he is crazy yup
a tray of sushi and a glass of wine would sure be good about now, if only i wasn’t so tired
the tray sits along the window sill balancing just so until the cat comes along and disturbs it…
brilliant. never thought of anything of this sort. never heard of something like this before. ingenious. it actually is hard to put down all thoughts in 60 secs. or there is just too much to say.
the tray is long and sits sideways along a windsill balancing just so until the cat disturbs it
word of the day is the day of the sky that is in the high world above us in our daily lives…i can’t believe it’s here why is the sky up high why am i down here? wondering thoughts & countless questions surround my foolish mind
tray of cheese at a swanky party. i wonder what kind of man trey will become. he’ll probably cheat on his wife. whay am i being mean? a tra holds up, supports little knick knacks and pollywogs.
I grabbed my tray in the line at the school cafeteria. It was filled with bland and colorless food. Still I had to eat lunch for the day, so I took the tray.
I searched the cafeteria for anyone I knew. I hated this part of the daily lunch time scene.
Trays can hold lots of things. Like food. Sometimes you bring food to people in bed on trays. Or maybe when you’re eating out the waitors bring you your food on a tray. If you’re lucky enough you might go somewhere where you get food and take it to your seat yourself, on a tray.
i have a breakfast tray in my kitchen. i use it on mothers day when i make breakfast for my mom. she loves it. i do it every year. another tray in my house is one i use to hold my laptop when i sit down and want to go on the computer. what else is there to write about a tray?…..
he lifts the tray up and runs himself through the lunchline in his dead end job at the hospital.
he couldn’t save lives even if he tried, and he had stopped trying years ago.
I used blue ones in elementary school. The grease rings from the pizza remained behind. I was fat, and my tray was cleared before anyone else’s.
My high school used to have big white trays.
they became inconvenient and expensive, so they got rid of them.
nice place for a rose in a vase to be placed by my lover, awaiting my arrival, and some chocolate strawberries, also.
Title: Recurring Tray.
THe setting was familiar. Just like that time twenty years ago, I get to see the woman I love, in the same diner. Her eyes are as beautiful as they were then, same hue and her hair shines the same way. Oh how lovely she was then. And how lovely she is again.
I remove the food off of the metal tray. And I hit her the same way I did twenty years ago. The blood flies the same way, splatters the same way. Her eyes scorn me the same way. And she dies the same way. Well…not the exact same, sure a generation off but her image nevertheless.
She carried the tray over to the table. The weight of if clearly straining her wrist.
“Do you need a water refill?” she asked, wincing.
I shook my head no, and reengaged myself in conversation with my partner in crime.
tray
you carry things on it. its a douchy name for rich guys like the husband on sex and the city but i dont think its spelled like that.
for some reason im remembering NYU’s dining halls and taking the trey to this cool conveyer belt. we have those at miami so im not sure why i was thinking of the nyu one.
I baked cookies this morning. This batch was much better than the one I’d made yesterday, despite the fact that the dough was much stickier. It clung tightly to my fingers and refused to come off until I ran my hands under the faucet, letting the globs of vanilla-flour-chocolate-chip melt off my skin in ugly, unappetizing brown lumps.
I stood wide-eyed next to the operating table, watching as the surgeon extracted a bloody bullet from the patient’s abdomen and dropped it into a small paper cup lying in the try beside the bed. That was the moment I decided to become a surgeon. Twelve years later, I’m not sure if it was the best idea.
The waitress brought the tray to the table. On it was my order of a veritable orgasm of the tongue after what I had been through. Iraq wasn’t known for it’s cuisine.
The ashtray has my uncle’s ashes. His lungs burnt up his happiness and strength. Ironically he was a doctor. Maybe he should have diagnosed himself. It’s a disorder that is the unseen plague among those of frail composition. I mean that in the mental sense.
something that you would use during a time of eatting, i used a tray one during christmas time and it cracked because i put something too hot on it and it broke on the table over a plate of food for our guest and everyone began to laugh, a tray is something you use at a dinner to bring food to a
Left alone on the tray, the lonely toothpick sighed. Why, oh why was I left here while my partnered food was taken away? We were inseperable. But, like a dirty whore, she left me. I feel wet and used.
The tray was filled with the most decadent desserts she’d ever set her eyes on. But the view across the table was even better than that. There he was, the one she’d waited for her whole life, sitting there waiting for her to say something.
i flicked my cigarette into the ash tray as he cast his sideways glance at me, trying to catch my eye. i blink, longing to keep my eyelids shut tight if only to avoid the sparkle that i know i’ll have to acknowledge if i meet his eyes.
carrying my heart on a silver platter
nothing will change
(nothing will be the same)
carrying my soul on a silver platter
Ice cube tray, ice cubes with cherries, ice in party punch. Ah! Must be that season. Mistletoe, bells, peace on earth, the Savior is born! God is with us!
i struggle for balance.this tight skirt just won’t do,and the customer’s throwing dagger stares at me.eager for his cheap drink in one swallow.i balance the tray on my fingertips.this just won’t do.and i have to feed the children.
I like TV trays. They let me eat anywhere. I often make them dirty though. I don’t know why. TV dinners are messy…. And I’m no neat-freak…too bad my mom is. Haha poor Mama’s stuck with a messay daughter.
I remember sitting at the hospital in Zell Am See, visiting my Oma… We were sitting there, she had broken her arm, and I was taking pictures. There was an ashtray on the table… I photographed it in black & white, as well as a few shots of my mom and my oma. They both looked less than happy.
its a tray and it holds my food while i rumage around looking for utincles to help me eat the food it holds. it cures my awkward balance and unthinkingly helps me stay alive. Without it eating wouldnt quite me the same. neither would the trash clean up.
my life on a silver platter
my soul for sale
isn’t that they way you want it to be?
i once went to thespians convention with this guy named tray, he had his hands down his pants every time we got back to our room. it was very strange.
A tray is something people put food on, or dispoese cigarettes. Like and ashTRAY. :)