I found it sitting on the top of her drawer and couldn’t help but wonder why she kept it. Broken as it was, how could she keep my own tooth on a string and wear it.
Arwin
Something we all wear, not for ourselves but for others. Personally, jewelries should not just be for others to look at but it should tell you something about yourself. I like them but not the distracting kind. Keep it simple.
There was a glint in the rocks down on the beach that caught her eye, a deep crimson glimmer that stood out and alighted in her a sense of discovery. She rolled away the nearby stones to uncover a smooth-edged gem set into a tarnished silver bracelet and, stealing a glance back towards her companions on the hill, stealthily pocketed it before slipping off her shoes and walking along the shoreline.
As the burglur entered the shop with the greesiest burger ever, he didn’t feel any guilt. After all he was only a shoplifter. But something inside him felt wrong when he snatched the jewelry from the glass container and bolted out of the shop. At first he just shook it off but then it came back really hard. So he stopped and went back to the shop. As he entered, the cops came screeching in and were very suprised how he just gave up like that. He explained how he felt something inside that made him stop. The police man just gave him a happy look and reasured him that he still had a good conscience, but the man declined and said,”No, it’s not that, I felt fine until I started to run.” But the cop just reasured him again that he still had a good conscience. But no matter how much the cop reasured the man kept denying. After a long arguement the man started to chuckle. Then he began to laugh and in only a few seconds he was bursting with laughter and rolling on the ground. The cop thought he was crazy and just as he was about to call the guard to take him to the asylum next door the man had just enough breth in him to squeeze out,”I had heart burn!” and just then he pounded the cop on the head and bolted out like nothing ever seen before and rushed back to the jewelry shop and stole double than before and went home a very jolly shoplifter.
David
Johnny peeked into the dark room. His flashlight scanned the furniture for a safe pathway and settled on the safe on the opposite wall.
“There it is,” he whispered, “Don’t touch anything.”
“If I can’t touch anything, why did we wear gloves?”
Johnny glanced at Hunter and shook his head.
“Just follow me and try not to knock anything over.”
The boys slowly shuffled across the room toward the safe. Hunter reached a hand to grab Johnny’s arm.
“Did you hear that?!” he whispered nervously.
Johnny paused. The room was quiet. He gave Hunter a slight scowl and they continued to the safe. Johnny handed Hunter the flashlight, pulled a small bag from his belt, and reached to turn the combination lock.
Johnny stopped. The door of the safe easily swung open. The boys peered inside and as Hunter raised the flashlight they were greeted by an empty interior.
“The jewelry is gone!” Hunter exclaimed.
“They got here ahead of us,” Johnny nodded, “Now we have to find them and get it back before Uncle Chester finds out what’s happened!”
She never wore jewelry, except on special occasions, which were actually few and far between. He thought it not necessary and he felt the same way about make up.
Steve O
She sparkled like millions of pearls shimmering under the afternoon sun. She felt like a free spirit, after days of being cooped up in an unwanted nest. Even the jewelry she wore to the club couldn’t match her bubbly energetic form.
Who would’ve thought she could dance without inhibitions.
kyungsoo
I love jewelry. I remember the jewelry my grandmother gave me, thinking of what she was doing when she wore it, excited to wear it and imagine myself where she was at 17 in 1939, with a new sparkling silver necklace embedded with beautiful blue gems. Now worn and shabby, almost as a whisper of the memories it held, and in those whispers told the story of its past life. I thought of one day, telling my kids, “This used to be my grandmother’s”, and seeing the light of excitement in their eyes, the same that shown in mine when it was passed down to me, and maybe the same excitement they might feel when one day I get to pass it on to them. And then maybe, years from now, it’ll be my grandchildren, and my jewelry.
Eva Bae
I love jewelry. I remember the jewelry my grandmother gave me as she cleaned out her house, and me thinking of wearing it and telling my kids one day that this used to be my grandmother’s jewelry and how excited they might be one day if i get to pass it on to them. And then maybe one day, it’ll be my grandchildren, and my jewelry.
Eva Bae
adorned with failed
emotion
the gaudy charm
of insincerity
adored by most
so worn
by many
love earrings but rarely change them; love the two rings I wear. Love the idea of jewelry more than wearing it. Except for my bird pin that belonged to my grandmother. I wear that to every exam or “big thing” I have and it helps. And I’ve always passed the exams. I had a wonderful lion pin that was hers but lost it at church. And at church…it was never returned. That was more disappointing than the loss of it in the first place. I have a lot of jewelry it seems, things from grandmothers, mothers, daughters in their youth. Two old wedding bands. What does one do with those…
Nikki Weaver
She took Jewelery classes in school, four years of silver smithing and loved making it. But she didn’t have too many pieces to her name.
It was all the things that brought the different beliefs together. At least at this point, as the world seemed to finally be spinning down. She spent the summer by the pool as the sun stayed up and up and up. All things glittered for awhile. And then that Monday came.
There once was a girl who loved jewelry until one day it was ruined for her. She was walking home from work one day until a man grabbed her by her necklace and took her into the alley
Bulbs of hard white dangle from the ceiling, tinkling with each other when the boat rolls against a wave and turns the sparkling champagne and thinning center pieces into a lesson in gravity.
Jewelry adorns the body accentuating that which I wish to highlight. The cold, pretty coloured metal flashes upon my skin, drawing attention to me…accessories…they are my accomplices in helping me to attract a member of the opposite sex…subtly adding to my overall appeal…begging to be taken off by a stranger’s willing fingers. Jewelry…used to make a statement without saying a word…flashy…trashy…classy….preppy…bohemian…glam…which are you and which will you be?
I delicately lift my fingers from the necklace, immediately longing the touch of it again. It even smells like him and brings an immense flood of memories, painful and wonderful at the same time. I can’t throw it away. It is a sentimental symbol of our continued love.
Chloe
A big jewelry theft occur this morning. Oneone has ever imagined that that jewelrry store could be broken.
leila
Friends, dreams, love, smiles — these are the jewelery of life. But what, then, of the ascetics of this world? I feel no desire to be a holy hermit, sitting in a mountain hut singing songs to Christ, but neither do I want to subsume myself into this world of artifice and gold…
John Doe
a lady’s best friend, shimmering and splendid. A piece of material wealth coveted by many. Earned by few. Some buy it for affection, others for vanity. The wealthy love to show it all to those who can’t afford it.
Cameron Russell
She loved her jewelry. Rings, bracelets, necklaces, earings, anklets. It was all expensive. She wore thousands of hundreds of dollars on her at all times. It was exquisite.
Pei Pei
her wrist sparkles as she takes a long drag of her cigarette. “what are your plans tonight?” she asks with a devilish look in her eyes.
You are not a piece of jewelry. You’re not an accessory, nor are you meant to simply complement another. You shouldn’t be worn or dumped in a drawer when they tire of you or your are out of style. You are worth more than diamonds and pearls.
Lucy weaved the car through the freeway traffic while Doyle read the dossier she had given him. Her resume was impressive, and she would be useful, but he still liked to work alone. He supposed he could use her for investigative legwork, as she appeared to have a background in a detective agency. She did dress like one, business suit, low heels, no purse; and her hair was cut short, barely revealing the pierced ears which were her only jewelry. “So,” he asked her, “how much do you know about what I do?” She glanced across at him and smiled knowingly; “Only what you’re going to tell me, which I’m sure will not be everything!”
tonykeyesjapan
its something people wear to make a statement. to define themselves in some sort of way. to make them look fancier. make them seem better. it really doesn’t do much. its a piece of metal or some element that can cost us so much money for what? nothing.
Kimberly Briceno
a shimmer on your neck or a gleam on your wrists. a humming tune sliding up your elbows, peeking out over your shoulders. you are my brightest diamond. you are my richest gold.
The jewelry that was sitting around my neck became a heavy weight that I couldn’t take anymore. I ripped the necklace off and threw it into the cold blue waves and dug my toes into the grainy sand. I felt a surge of relief.
my jewelry was cheap and fading
but I guess that’s all right
no one has to know as I also wear a bracelet I stole
when no one was looking
and when no one knew who I was
Lourdes
I picked at the bracelet on my wrist. He continued to stare at me, and I could feel his eyes boring into me.
“Answer me Lily.” He demanded. I smiled inside. Swiftly, I got the gun from my purse and pointed it at his head.
“Sure. This is my answer.”
jewelry to be envied
broke backed slave gold
stolen from homes away from home
the rest is peace, a piece
of class, glass
referring to what we aspire to
to hold others back
gone goods greatness achieved
matt
FREEWAY.
She shuddered on the footpath under the lamplight. She could never quite say goodbye.
“Will you come tomorrow?” he asked, kissing her, leaving his smell on her skin.
She shook her head. Her heart was shrinking and he was leaving.
It only took twelve minutes by the freeway to lose the touch of his taste.
Jinah steps out of the bathroom feeling warm and fidgety in, what she belatedly realizes, is Kyungsoo’s clothes. She tugs at the long t-shirt he’d given her, deciding to ditch the basketball shorts since they were way too big for her, the shirt reaching past mid-thigh.
farah
They took all of her jewelry, and all of her fancy gowns. They doled the goods out among them, covered their puckered skin in faux diamonds and rubies, stones that lacked value but made up for it in gaudy sheen. The sequins buried themselves into their flabby flanks as they danced around the room, giggling and snorting and holding hands. Seeing all four of the sisters have the time of their lives should have made me happy, but on all of their ruddy, round faces, I saw my mother’s eyes glaring right at me, burning a hole into my crystalline soul.
Belinda Roddie
It’s all that’s left to me now. Her jewellery. The memories are fading. I find it difficult to conjure her face and I no longer hear her voice, chastising me, loving me. But I wear this ring. The one that was cut from her wedding finger the day she died. And it makes me certain she was here, that she gave me a life and that she would be disappointed if I saw fit to end it.
I found it sitting on the top of her drawer and couldn’t help but wonder why she kept it. Broken as it was, how could she keep my own tooth on a string and wear it.
Something we all wear, not for ourselves but for others. Personally, jewelries should not just be for others to look at but it should tell you something about yourself. I like them but not the distracting kind. Keep it simple.
There was a glint in the rocks down on the beach that caught her eye, a deep crimson glimmer that stood out and alighted in her a sense of discovery. She rolled away the nearby stones to uncover a smooth-edged gem set into a tarnished silver bracelet and, stealing a glance back towards her companions on the hill, stealthily pocketed it before slipping off her shoes and walking along the shoreline.
As the burglur entered the shop with the greesiest burger ever, he didn’t feel any guilt. After all he was only a shoplifter. But something inside him felt wrong when he snatched the jewelry from the glass container and bolted out of the shop. At first he just shook it off but then it came back really hard. So he stopped and went back to the shop. As he entered, the cops came screeching in and were very suprised how he just gave up like that. He explained how he felt something inside that made him stop. The police man just gave him a happy look and reasured him that he still had a good conscience, but the man declined and said,”No, it’s not that, I felt fine until I started to run.” But the cop just reasured him again that he still had a good conscience. But no matter how much the cop reasured the man kept denying. After a long arguement the man started to chuckle. Then he began to laugh and in only a few seconds he was bursting with laughter and rolling on the ground. The cop thought he was crazy and just as he was about to call the guard to take him to the asylum next door the man had just enough breth in him to squeeze out,”I had heart burn!” and just then he pounded the cop on the head and bolted out like nothing ever seen before and rushed back to the jewelry shop and stole double than before and went home a very jolly shoplifter.
Johnny peeked into the dark room. His flashlight scanned the furniture for a safe pathway and settled on the safe on the opposite wall.
“There it is,” he whispered, “Don’t touch anything.”
“If I can’t touch anything, why did we wear gloves?”
Johnny glanced at Hunter and shook his head.
“Just follow me and try not to knock anything over.”
The boys slowly shuffled across the room toward the safe. Hunter reached a hand to grab Johnny’s arm.
“Did you hear that?!” he whispered nervously.
Johnny paused. The room was quiet. He gave Hunter a slight scowl and they continued to the safe. Johnny handed Hunter the flashlight, pulled a small bag from his belt, and reached to turn the combination lock.
Johnny stopped. The door of the safe easily swung open. The boys peered inside and as Hunter raised the flashlight they were greeted by an empty interior.
“The jewelry is gone!” Hunter exclaimed.
“They got here ahead of us,” Johnny nodded, “Now we have to find them and get it back before Uncle Chester finds out what’s happened!”
She never wore jewelry, except on special occasions, which were actually few and far between. He thought it not necessary and he felt the same way about make up.
She sparkled like millions of pearls shimmering under the afternoon sun. She felt like a free spirit, after days of being cooped up in an unwanted nest. Even the jewelry she wore to the club couldn’t match her bubbly energetic form.
Who would’ve thought she could dance without inhibitions.
I love jewelry. I remember the jewelry my grandmother gave me, thinking of what she was doing when she wore it, excited to wear it and imagine myself where she was at 17 in 1939, with a new sparkling silver necklace embedded with beautiful blue gems. Now worn and shabby, almost as a whisper of the memories it held, and in those whispers told the story of its past life. I thought of one day, telling my kids, “This used to be my grandmother’s”, and seeing the light of excitement in their eyes, the same that shown in mine when it was passed down to me, and maybe the same excitement they might feel when one day I get to pass it on to them. And then maybe, years from now, it’ll be my grandchildren, and my jewelry.
I love jewelry. I remember the jewelry my grandmother gave me as she cleaned out her house, and me thinking of wearing it and telling my kids one day that this used to be my grandmother’s jewelry and how excited they might be one day if i get to pass it on to them. And then maybe one day, it’ll be my grandchildren, and my jewelry.
adorned with failed
emotion
the gaudy charm
of insincerity
adored by most
so worn
by many
love earrings but rarely change them; love the two rings I wear. Love the idea of jewelry more than wearing it. Except for my bird pin that belonged to my grandmother. I wear that to every exam or “big thing” I have and it helps. And I’ve always passed the exams. I had a wonderful lion pin that was hers but lost it at church. And at church…it was never returned. That was more disappointing than the loss of it in the first place. I have a lot of jewelry it seems, things from grandmothers, mothers, daughters in their youth. Two old wedding bands. What does one do with those…
She took Jewelery classes in school, four years of silver smithing and loved making it. But she didn’t have too many pieces to her name.
It was all the things that brought the different beliefs together. At least at this point, as the world seemed to finally be spinning down. She spent the summer by the pool as the sun stayed up and up and up. All things glittered for awhile. And then that Monday came.
There once was a girl who loved jewelry until one day it was ruined for her. She was walking home from work one day until a man grabbed her by her necklace and took her into the alley
gold
expensive
dazzling
girls
silver
diamond
jewels
shiny
pretty
rich
Bulbs of hard white dangle from the ceiling, tinkling with each other when the boat rolls against a wave and turns the sparkling champagne and thinning center pieces into a lesson in gravity.
Jewelry adorns the body accentuating that which I wish to highlight. The cold, pretty coloured metal flashes upon my skin, drawing attention to me…accessories…they are my accomplices in helping me to attract a member of the opposite sex…subtly adding to my overall appeal…begging to be taken off by a stranger’s willing fingers. Jewelry…used to make a statement without saying a word…flashy…trashy…classy….preppy…bohemian…glam…which are you and which will you be?
I delicately lift my fingers from the necklace, immediately longing the touch of it again. It even smells like him and brings an immense flood of memories, painful and wonderful at the same time. I can’t throw it away. It is a sentimental symbol of our continued love.
A big jewelry theft occur this morning. Oneone has ever imagined that that jewelrry store could be broken.
Friends, dreams, love, smiles — these are the jewelery of life. But what, then, of the ascetics of this world? I feel no desire to be a holy hermit, sitting in a mountain hut singing songs to Christ, but neither do I want to subsume myself into this world of artifice and gold…
a lady’s best friend, shimmering and splendid. A piece of material wealth coveted by many. Earned by few. Some buy it for affection, others for vanity. The wealthy love to show it all to those who can’t afford it.
She loved her jewelry. Rings, bracelets, necklaces, earings, anklets. It was all expensive. She wore thousands of hundreds of dollars on her at all times. It was exquisite.
her wrist sparkles as she takes a long drag of her cigarette. “what are your plans tonight?” she asks with a devilish look in her eyes.
“Wow! Jewelry was stolen from the jeweler down the road. Gee, I thought that the alarm would have went off,” Bethy said, shocked.
“Apparently not. Those thieves must have been real sneaky to no set the alarm off.” Jake said.
“They even stole things from the safe!”
You are not a piece of jewelry. You’re not an accessory, nor are you meant to simply complement another. You shouldn’t be worn or dumped in a drawer when they tire of you or your are out of style. You are worth more than diamonds and pearls.
I don´t have any jewelry. its a evidence of welth and luxury which is what I am not that much in. I appreciate simple staff and human basics
You are not a piece of jewelry.
the cashew-crackling bang of my neck’s festoon!
ah, yes, oh mighty 8-carrot gold,
forgone for good, never, will I be mold,
scold, if you should.
Lucy weaved the car through the freeway traffic while Doyle read the dossier she had given him. Her resume was impressive, and she would be useful, but he still liked to work alone. He supposed he could use her for investigative legwork, as she appeared to have a background in a detective agency. She did dress like one, business suit, low heels, no purse; and her hair was cut short, barely revealing the pierced ears which were her only jewelry. “So,” he asked her, “how much do you know about what I do?” She glanced across at him and smiled knowingly; “Only what you’re going to tell me, which I’m sure will not be everything!”
its something people wear to make a statement. to define themselves in some sort of way. to make them look fancier. make them seem better. it really doesn’t do much. its a piece of metal or some element that can cost us so much money for what? nothing.
a shimmer on your neck or a gleam on your wrists. a humming tune sliding up your elbows, peeking out over your shoulders. you are my brightest diamond. you are my richest gold.
The jewelry that was sitting around my neck became a heavy weight that I couldn’t take anymore. I ripped the necklace off and threw it into the cold blue waves and dug my toes into the grainy sand. I felt a surge of relief.
my jewelry was cheap and fading
but I guess that’s all right
no one has to know as I also wear a bracelet I stole
when no one was looking
and when no one knew who I was
I picked at the bracelet on my wrist. He continued to stare at me, and I could feel his eyes boring into me.
“Answer me Lily.” He demanded. I smiled inside. Swiftly, I got the gun from my purse and pointed it at his head.
“Sure. This is my answer.”
jewelry to be envied
broke backed slave gold
stolen from homes away from home
the rest is peace, a piece
of class, glass
referring to what we aspire to
to hold others back
gone goods greatness achieved
FREEWAY.
She shuddered on the footpath under the lamplight. She could never quite say goodbye.
“Will you come tomorrow?” he asked, kissing her, leaving his smell on her skin.
She shook her head. Her heart was shrinking and he was leaving.
It only took twelve minutes by the freeway to lose the touch of his taste.
Jinah steps out of the bathroom feeling warm and fidgety in, what she belatedly realizes, is Kyungsoo’s clothes. She tugs at the long t-shirt he’d given her, deciding to ditch the basketball shorts since they were way too big for her, the shirt reaching past mid-thigh.
They took all of her jewelry, and all of her fancy gowns. They doled the goods out among them, covered their puckered skin in faux diamonds and rubies, stones that lacked value but made up for it in gaudy sheen. The sequins buried themselves into their flabby flanks as they danced around the room, giggling and snorting and holding hands. Seeing all four of the sisters have the time of their lives should have made me happy, but on all of their ruddy, round faces, I saw my mother’s eyes glaring right at me, burning a hole into my crystalline soul.
It’s all that’s left to me now. Her jewellery. The memories are fading. I find it difficult to conjure her face and I no longer hear her voice, chastising me, loving me. But I wear this ring. The one that was cut from her wedding finger the day she died. And it makes me certain she was here, that she gave me a life and that she would be disappointed if I saw fit to end it.