we once had a black van that was hot in the summer. and also fell apart after a cou;ke years. After we had a red van that also fell apart after years, now we have a blue mi
kylen
I sat down in the front seat of the van. It was the first time I rode one. It was thrilling, I finally felt ready to take my revenge.
I saw a van in the evenning. It was white and is faster than a rabbit. Can you see?
Nivas
I saw the van everyday
Until it stopped right next to me.
And then I never saw it again.
H
“Imma need a young priest, a slightly old priest, maybe a cardinal if I’m feelin’ it, an economy box of condoms, a jug of rum or whiskey, preferably rum tho, some extra strong rosaries with thick beads, and a crucifix large enough to swing like a paddle.” She takes the last drag of her cigarette and flicks the spent butt out the van’s window as we pass a highway sign for Nacogdoches. She grins manically at my puzzlement. “Ya know, yer basic supplies for milking the demons outta them boys.”
Impala Abdul
Summers at my hometown always give me nostalgia. The long drives in our family van, with the sweltering heat irritating us despite the faulty AC cranking its lowest possible temperature setting. Lazy afternoons where we would just lie on the grass and not give a care at all. That quaint town has always been boring then, but it’s the only respite I look forward to now.
The van rolled up next to the group of teenagers. The man behind the wheel was wearing a hat and glasses. The door opened automatically. The teenagers could see behind the disguise. The Skeleton King sighed. He would need to find a more complete costume.
It’s hard for me to write here because as soon as I get here I start singing, “One world is enough for all of us.” Riding in a van also brings back memories and any van is good enough. A van is a large vehicle without windows.
She looked out the window, waiting for the delivery van to pull around the corner and put an end to all the waiting. She straightened the pillows on the couch and ran her finger over the window sill. Clean. Great. Almost ready. Where was that delivery?
van is one of my favourite vehicles, onec with my friend i got sit there round the DU and found pleasure. most of the poor peole pull the vehicle with physical labour in my country.
It is a thing that has come to mean creepy and ‘to be avoided’ for women and children across the country. That’s kinda sad. It used to be a symbol of independence and ‘being cool’.
Van. makes me think of the shoe brand. or a name of a douche bag guy. but vans are the mode of transportation. you know that comes with wheels. even life is lie riding on a van, it gets bumpy.
I once knew a boy named Van. What a poor name to have – either he was named after a rather boring type of vehicle, or he was named after a shoe company. Whichever it was, it definitely explains his teen angst and emo tendencies.
Recently, I’ve learned that the fancy name for a moving van is ‘Pantechnicon’. How it is that that word is not used is beyond me. I think it’s a great word that makes something so mundane sound like something far more interesting than it actually is.
The van turned the corner, weaving recklessly between the cars on the crowded highway. Finally it ended up in a ditch. When the police arrived, the young boy in the drivers seat started to cry. “Look at my father,” he called out. “I can’t get him to wake up.”
“Back to the van!” I screamed, and broke into a run before anyone else could snap their heads to look at me in confusion. My heart was rumbling like a jaunty car blowing past the speed limit as I hurtled toward my father’s old broken down vehicle, the spray paint from an unknown vandal still streaking its white side with reds and blacks.
I didn’t hear the monster growl, but pretty soon, I heard my friends’ footsteps, too, and their cries of terror.
Belinda Roddie
Van was? Van Gogh? Oder “der Van”? Das ist irgendsoein besonderes Auto, es gibt einen Mini-Van und vielleicht auch einen Maxi-Van? Keine Ahnung, muss ich mal recherchieren. Ich lag Van Gogh nicht. Überhaupt kann ich mit Kunstwerken wenig anfangen.
When I was a child our van was our second home. Travelling around from city to city while my brother played hockey. It was like our second home. We ate there and spent most of our family time in there. It was the first vehicle that I drove (legally) and a pain in the ass to parallel park!
Vans are creepy. Super creepy. When i see a van, the first thing i think of is kidnapping. I get when you have a ton of people to drive around the extra space is necessary, but maybe a station wagon.
Joi
The van in front of me was the strangest thing I’d ever seen. It was painted bright pink, with a large rainbow splashed across the side under the words “Happy’s Vacuum Service.”
I pointed to Freddy. “This is…yours?”
VAN!!! how ironic is it that this is my first time being on here and this is the first word I get. Yesterday I wrecked the VAN into the pride supermarket. The brakes went out and I was trying to avoid hitting the line of cars in front of me so I whipped it into the parking lot hoping that the brakes would start working again. They didn’t. I did stop but only by hitting the store. I shattered two windows and hit right on the beam in between them .I had no insurance. didn’t even sign the title…and now, I AM SCREWED!!!!
Van. how ironic is that. Yesterday i wrecked our van into the Pride supermarket. The breaks went out and I tried to avoid hitting the line of cars in front of me so i whipped into the parking lot hoping the brakes would start working again. I ran right into the damn store. No insurance.. didnt even sign the title yet. Just got it running again and NOW I AM SCREWED!!
The van was made in 2006.The type of van is a ford.
My mom has a big red van.
It was the third of the ninth month, when Monsieur Van Terr strolled on his way to the Rhine.
we once had a black van that was hot in the summer. and also fell apart after a cou;ke years. After we had a red van that also fell apart after years, now we have a blue mi
I sat down in the front seat of the van. It was the first time I rode one. It was thrilling, I finally felt ready to take my revenge.
I saw a van in the evenning. It was white and is faster than a rabbit. Can you see?
I saw the van everyday
Until it stopped right next to me.
And then I never saw it again.
“Imma need a young priest, a slightly old priest, maybe a cardinal if I’m feelin’ it, an economy box of condoms, a jug of rum or whiskey, preferably rum tho, some extra strong rosaries with thick beads, and a crucifix large enough to swing like a paddle.” She takes the last drag of her cigarette and flicks the spent butt out the van’s window as we pass a highway sign for Nacogdoches. She grins manically at my puzzlement. “Ya know, yer basic supplies for milking the demons outta them boys.”
Summers at my hometown always give me nostalgia. The long drives in our family van, with the sweltering heat irritating us despite the faulty AC cranking its lowest possible temperature setting. Lazy afternoons where we would just lie on the grass and not give a care at all. That quaint town has always been boring then, but it’s the only respite I look forward to now.
The van rolled up next to the group of teenagers. The man behind the wheel was wearing a hat and glasses. The door opened automatically. The teenagers could see behind the disguise. The Skeleton King sighed. He would need to find a more complete costume.
It’s hard for me to write here because as soon as I get here I start singing, “One world is enough for all of us.” Riding in a van also brings back memories and any van is good enough. A van is a large vehicle without windows.
The old van was like my life before. Beat up, trashed, but still running. I said good-bye and stepped into the brand new loaded sedan.
The old van was like my old life. Beat up, dented, but still useful. I said good-bye and stepped into the brand new loaded sedan.
She looked out the window, waiting for the delivery van to pull around the corner and put an end to all the waiting. She straightened the pillows on the couch and ran her finger over the window sill. Clean. Great. Almost ready. Where was that delivery?
van is one of my favourite vehicles, onec with my friend i got sit there round the DU and found pleasure. most of the poor peole pull the vehicle with physical labour in my country.
It is a thing that has come to mean creepy and ‘to be avoided’ for women and children across the country. That’s kinda sad. It used to be a symbol of independence and ‘being cool’.
Van. makes me think of the shoe brand. or a name of a douche bag guy. but vans are the mode of transportation. you know that comes with wheels. even life is lie riding on a van, it gets bumpy.
I once knew a boy named Van. What a poor name to have – either he was named after a rather boring type of vehicle, or he was named after a shoe company. Whichever it was, it definitely explains his teen angst and emo tendencies.
Recently, I’ve learned that the fancy name for a moving van is ‘Pantechnicon’. How it is that that word is not used is beyond me. I think it’s a great word that makes something so mundane sound like something far more interesting than it actually is.
The van turned the corner, weaving recklessly between the cars on the crowded highway. Finally it ended up in a ditch. When the police arrived, the young boy in the drivers seat started to cry. “Look at my father,” he called out. “I can’t get him to wake up.”
“Back to the van!” I screamed, and broke into a run before anyone else could snap their heads to look at me in confusion. My heart was rumbling like a jaunty car blowing past the speed limit as I hurtled toward my father’s old broken down vehicle, the spray paint from an unknown vandal still streaking its white side with reds and blacks.
I didn’t hear the monster growl, but pretty soon, I heard my friends’ footsteps, too, and their cries of terror.
Van was? Van Gogh? Oder “der Van”? Das ist irgendsoein besonderes Auto, es gibt einen Mini-Van und vielleicht auch einen Maxi-Van? Keine Ahnung, muss ich mal recherchieren. Ich lag Van Gogh nicht. Überhaupt kann ich mit Kunstwerken wenig anfangen.
When I was a child our van was our second home. Travelling around from city to city while my brother played hockey. It was like our second home. We ate there and spent most of our family time in there. It was the first vehicle that I drove (legally) and a pain in the ass to parallel park!
Vans are creepy. Super creepy. When i see a van, the first thing i think of is kidnapping. I get when you have a ton of people to drive around the extra space is necessary, but maybe a station wagon.
The van in front of me was the strangest thing I’d ever seen. It was painted bright pink, with a large rainbow splashed across the side under the words “Happy’s Vacuum Service.”
I pointed to Freddy. “This is…yours?”
VAN!!! how ironic is it that this is my first time being on here and this is the first word I get. Yesterday I wrecked the VAN into the pride supermarket. The brakes went out and I was trying to avoid hitting the line of cars in front of me so I whipped it into the parking lot hoping that the brakes would start working again. They didn’t. I did stop but only by hitting the store. I shattered two windows and hit right on the beam in between them .I had no insurance. didn’t even sign the title…and now, I AM SCREWED!!!!
Van. how ironic is that. Yesterday i wrecked our van into the Pride supermarket. The breaks went out and I tried to avoid hitting the line of cars in front of me so i whipped into the parking lot hoping the brakes would start working again. I ran right into the damn store. No insurance.. didnt even sign the title yet. Just got it running again and NOW I AM SCREWED!!