Miss or Diss
This game is easy. And it all started at lunch yesterday. We were sitting down in the restricted area. My friend brought up a game.
"Let's play, 'Miss or Diss" She called out.
I was very confused. Miss or Diss? What the heck is this game? My friend must have read my mind, "Clara, It's a game where you pick a person from our school or any character you like and you say it to another person in our group if you want to Diss him/her or you want to Miss -which stands for Marriage, I, sure,...
All this chicken wants is a hamburger. Nothing fancy, just meat and cheese. Maybe lettuce and tomato. That's it. Really, I don't think that's much to ask for. Is it?
Here's the problem. The road won't let me do it. The cows are relatively fine with it. Not happy, but they've at least come to understand that I'm going to eat them.
The road, on the other hand, is not happy at all. You see, the road has it in it's head that its reason for existence is to protect the cows. The cows can't see the danger and incowity...
Millions. It seemed like it anyway, the number of people that were lining California's streets in the 60s and 70s. "Making it" or trying to... Rebelling, singing, pan-handling, and trying to fit in. Half-clothed, non-clothed boys and girls (we couldn't call ourselves men and women, we were only 15 and 16 most of us). We were in a revolution. Haight/Ashbury was the center of it all, at least for us. The LSD had its hold on some of us, others were fine just being thousands of miles away from where they grew up, just to feel "free." San Francisco changed...
I will put my fingers together and pull the grass up from the roots. I will do it before my mother comes outside. If I don't she'll ask "what have you been doing out here all this time?" But if I do, I'll have something to show for myself. I'll give her the stalks of grass as if they are flowers. She may thank me, but she more likely will wonder why I bothered to dig up the good grass.
I will move away from home one day soon. I will plant a garden where I live. I will make...
Jason could barely make out the piece of ocean where she had sunk beneath the waves.
Bitter tears coated his cheeks and he tasted salt as he gazed across the water to where he had last seen his dearest love. He had taken her for granted. He realized that now. He had never given her the attention she needed and deserved, and now he had lost her forever. He wiped his reddened eyes and pointed to the approximate spot of water where he'd last seen his beloved classic red Camaro. "That's where she sank," he told the insurance adjuster, sniffling...
i jumped off the bridge and hit the water.
OK, so i didn't judge the height of the bridge or he depth of the water, but i jumped nonetheless. instead of the sudden death i had anticipated, i found myself floating on top of the water. the bridge was about 5 feet high, but the water underneath was only four and a half feet deep, as deep as a normal swimming pool.
well, i'm still alive, which is kind of ironic because i didn't intend to jump off the bridge in the first place. but my friends yelled at me,...
Susan hopped onto the train headed to San Francisco. She was running from her fears, reality, and the one she loved the most, Sal.
As the train made it's loud whistle, and started to leave, Sal came running out of the train station door. He looked up and saw his Susan leaving.
He went running after the train. He jumped down onto the tracks and ran as fast and hard as he could until he was finally able to grab ahold of the railing.
He pulled himself up onto the train, hanging by one arm and a partial foothold....
My dad believed the island to be the end of a search for a cure for mom.
The promise of a healer that would finally reverse the soul destroying illness that was taking mom away from us.
Dad didn't care anymore what it would take, money, hope, nervous exhaustion from the endless searching, trying, failing, crying. He had to give it one more go.
Mom wanted to go home as soon as we got into the hotel room. She always wanted to go home even when she was in our house. She could only remember her childhood house and her...
"But I don't understand," said Marie, carefully patting her French-inspired doo. She had enough hairspray on it to make it impervious, not only to wind, but to the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune as well. "Why can't you explain this to me? What do you mean they've had enough cake?"
"Don't worry about it, Ms. Antoinette," said Katie Couric with a grin. "It's nothing to lose your head about."
*rimshot*