FallowWhen I was a little girl, we lived in a house with a nectarine tree. My father tended to it faithfully, watering it and pruning away the dead wood and the branches that would grow too heavy with time, sealing the trimmed edges with care. Each spring, it bore a can-can line of frilly, fragrant petticoat blossoms, cast away wantonly beneath the carnal attentions of buzzing cyprian bees. Each summer, it groaned beneath the weight of fruit, ripening in heavy round golden bellies, basking in the honeyed California sunlight, serene and assured in its fecundity. For a glorious few weeks, we would eat nectarines all day long, in as many creative applications as we could think of, canning the excess for a taste of summer in the fallow months to come.Fallow1 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
One spring, the tree dropped every one of its leaves, instead flowering in a veritable nova of blooms… somehow, it sensed the end of its long, slow life, and in one last tremendous effort, it sank all of its energies into posterity, producing
My TestimonyMy story starts when I was very young. Fortunately both my parents are Christians, so they provided that opportunity. I remember I used to pray every night before bedtime. At that time in my life I was two to four years old, and we didn’t have a church yet, but God was essential in my life. When my family settled down we found a small church around the corner from where we lived. I don’t remember much, since I was young, but I know I had accepted Christ at a very young age. The concept of God was easy to me, and in my mind everyone knew Jesus; it seemed unfathomable that anyone didn’t believe that there is a God and Jesus. But God was just something at church and Sunday school until one Sunday Christ became real to me. That Sunday we were supposed to memorize the verse Psalms 119:11, and I was the first to memorize it. I was so proud. I understood that the bible was God’s word and that it had stories, but I guess I never connected the dots because when I went hoMy Testimony2 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Everyone was a bully somehowWe've probably all bullied someone at some point, no matter how much we deny it. Whether directly through angry, thoughtless comments, or indirectly by standing aside and saying nothing, we've all been a part of this horrible practice. We didn't mean for it to hurt, but it did.Everyone was a bully somehow1 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Sure, everyone hates that annoying kid who constantly yells "I'm single!" whenever someone's talking about relationship problems, but that doesn't mean you have to pick on him.
Sure, everyone judges that girl for her lengthy dating history and skimpy clothing, but that doesn't mean you should call her a slut.
Sure, that somehow-popular guy bullies everyone, but that doesn't mean you have to be mean to him in return.
Sure, that girl isn't as athletic as the rest of the team, but that doesn't mean you should refuse to acknowledge her very existence for years on end.
So what do you do?
Be that one person who apologizes for bullying the poor kid. Tell people that enough is enough. Listen to him (although maybe you'r
Descriptive PortraitureYour eagerness to begin our first day together, in person, was as bright and warm as the golden California sunshine that crept playfully into your window. You waited to wake me only for as long as you could stand to, then tousled my hair and spoke to my jetlag-stricken self in singsong until I stirred.Descriptive Portraiture4 days ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Your own dark brown tresses, unbrushed, fell flawlessly around your face and onto your pajamas-clad shoulders as you responded to a few e-mails on your laptop. The contrast between your skin and hair in the light of dawn was absolutely striking. In mid-dress, I whipped out my camera and sneaked a picture. You mock-fumed when you heard the shutter click.
"Don't worry," I reassured you. "I won't post it anywhere."
But I did, and thank goodness you were forgiving. It was too perfect not to share. Even my smarting eyes could tell that your face had expressed the utmost sense of joy and serenity.
* * *
That blue-and-white-striped Hollister shirt had been a staple in your wardrobe for ne
09-11....I Can Still Remember If one closes their eyes and thinks long and hard, they can still remember.09-11....I Can Still Remember1 week ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
They can still remember the glory that graced the New York skyline before the dreaded 11th day of September in the year of 2001 when hell burst through the skies, and rent the world into ruin and sorrow. Families were broken, hearts were shattered, and nothing would ever be the same again. The security of our nation was never again taken for granted. We thought we were safe forever....then, we realized we weren't. Because we are the most powerful nation in the world, we thought no one would ever do us any harm. We though we were invincible. We thought were like the Titanic...unsinkable.
The towers fell, they crashed to the ground, and the rubble filled the streets. People were trapped beneath it, and many cried out for help, but sometimes, no help would come to them. The steel was wrenched in all sorts of ways...it was the skeleton of the towers, an
The Poking Ghost StorySometimes a strong imagination is a curse. I have very vivid dreams and nightmares.The Poking Ghost Story2 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
When I was in the navy, I had a nightmare one night that a ghostly presence attacked me in my bed. I could feel these cold hands grabbing me. I awoke screaming it seemed so real.
For weeks afterward I could not go to sleep easily. I could feel the ghost creeping up on me. I tried to ignore it and tell myself it was just a dream and my imagination to no avail. I would start to drop off and feel the ghost poke me. I would wake with a start and thrash about.
When I finally gave it a name, "The Poking Ghost," and told my friends about it, they suggested ignoring it and it would get bored and move on. So I tried that. When I got poked, I ignored it. Eventually, the poking slowly ebbed and became more and more infrequent. Eventually it all but disappeared.
However, I still get visited by the poking ghost every so oft
popsicleSummer forever frozenpopsicle1 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
An orange popsicle
Sold from an icebox
dry and vaporous
atop a tricycle
Four tingling bells
rung by the little man pedaling at the back
announcing the coming
Framed in trees
always green in the light of the sun
Lancelot Price 2014 August 26
No crappy songs on a loudspeaker loop
just the sweet sweet cold refreshment
I will always live there.
nueve.Die Frage ist jetzt, was ich an einer Frau eigentlich liebe. Soll ich es einmal komplett auflisten, so richtig von A bis Z? Voilà:nueve.1 week ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
a) Die geschwungene Linie, mit der sich die Taille zu den Hüften verbreitet.
b) Die Art, wie sie ein Leben lang das gleiche Herz durch die Welt trägt.
c) Eine Frau besteht aus zirka zwei Quadratmeter Haut (Grössenvergleich: Mein Bett ist 90 cm breit und 1.8 Meter lang, was eine Liegefläche von 1.62 Quadratmetern ergibt. Aus einer Frauenhaut liesse sich daher mühelos ein Bettanzug schneidern – plus passendem Nachttischlampenschirm aus den Abfallstücken).
d) Eine Frau ist etwas, in das man sich so hinein verlieben kann.
e) Diese Augen, die mich so elend machen.
f) Die Hände mit den zehn Fingern drauf.
g) Die Stimme am Telefon.
h) Der Hall ihrer Schritte.
i) Das Echo ihrer Gedanken in meinem Kopf.
j) Der Schmerz und die Traurigkeit – die Sandkörner im Meer des Lebens –, die sich in ihrem Innern zu
The EncounterI saw him at the grocery store on a Thursday. His hair was cut shorter then before and he looked as pale as the moon. He was wearing that gawd awful jacket with the brown stripes around his thin frame. It had been 6 months. Maybe more. To be honest it felt like a million years was passing between the minutes.The Encounter1 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Some would probably accuse my actions of staring at this man for so long rude. And it was, so please don't argue with me. Now...you don't know this man. But I do. Or....I did. He was someone very special to me, but I soon realized that the entire relationship was nothing but fake smiles and pretend make up on his end. Which hurt. Although I did fight through it and I still tried to be helpful, even though I knew it was in vain and he didn't give two fucks about me. I wanted more then anything to be close to him. Even if he pushed me away.
He had attempted suicide on countless days the year I met him. He would talk to me every night, and we would stay up until dawn talking. For so
DaddyI can count on two hands how many words I said to you today.Daddy1 week ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I say two hands because I like rounding up.
Remember when I used to pretend to be asleep in the car on the way home from Grandma’s so you’d have to carry me into the house when we got back? It wasn’t always you carrying me, sometimes Mom or Matt did, but I’m sure you knew that I was faking it and you happened to like carrying me just as much as I liked to be your little passenger.
Fake sleeping was something I did a lot, and I’m sure you knew every time that I did. I faked it so I wouldn’t have to get out of bed so soon in the morning.
I faked it so I could sit in my room until dinner had long since got cold and you’d gotten tired of calling for me. You don’t wake a napping child; it’s far too hard to get one to nap so you just let them be.
Though you always knew when I was faking sleep, I doubt you ever knew the times I did because I was feeling guilty.
PresentsPresents2 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
For the longest time I was wrong.
My love and passion to play and listen to a variety of music genres did not start with the first artist and album that I've heard. A Three Dog Night compilation album. No...it did not start there.
I've been thinking about it hard, but not for too long. Let me transport you back in time to the late nineties. 98' I do believe.
The following is spewed by my memory:
Well now, what a cute toddler I was! Three years old, tall for my age, wore a dinosaur-printed long sleeve shirt (with accompanying overalls of all things), and could not speak English for the life of me.
"Can you say hamburger Grant?"
It was an early evening night, 7:00 pm, and I was residing to the confines of the upstairs hallway and rooms. There I was, just sitting on the floor, completely bored out of my freaking mind. Good thing little ol' me didn't know what "School" meant.
I decided to be a little more adventurous than usual and waddled on over to my
ocho.In der Nacht bevor ich Julia vor ihrer Abreise nach Madrid zum letzten Mal sah, ging ich rückwärts auf dem Weg nach Hause durch den Wald, weil der Mond hinter mir stand. Daheim legte ich mich zwei Stunden auf dem Rücken unter den Schreibtisch. Das war Ende Januar. Ich weiss immer noch nicht, wie man das Glück in Worte fassen kann – und ich weiss auch nicht, warum ich so glücklich war. Natürlich, weil ich Julia am nächsten Tag sehen würde. Aber war das wirklich ein Anlass zum glücklich sein? Schliesslich sollte es das letzte Mal vor ihrer Abreise sein. Trotzdem fühlte ich mich einfach grenzenlos glücklich. Ich kann dieses Gefühl nicht in Worte fassen. Wenn sie mich so anblickt, wie damals nach dem Kino, als wir beide ganz verstört aus dem Film kamen, oder wie beim Weihnachtsessen über den Tisch hinweg, dann fühle ich einen Stich tief in meinem Herz, es ist warm, fast ein Schmerz, aber sehr schön. Nachhocho.2 weeks ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
18. The True Journal of a Fake 'Communist'11/21/7118. The True Journal of a Fake 'Communist'1 month ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Got up this morning just as the tops of those mountains across the valley caught some pink light, and I ran up to the outhouse and watched the light grow through the frost on the windows there. It's a Sunday and coming up pretty!
I have some cramps and a sort of desire to smoke a joint even before breakfast, otherwise I feel okay. I remember having another bad night of sleep last night. I thought I was dreaming of laughing but Vicki says I was groaning. Oh well.
Suzy said yesterday that she felt a physical attraction to me for a pretty long time, which blew my mind. She says Tom knows about it, even, and that he would dig the whole event and would like see her get closer to me or whatever. I didn't know what to say except "far out." We both let it go for now.
Laura just made one of those paper fortune-teller things where you pick a color and numbers and she fools with it and comes up with a reply. She just had Leelanee do
siete.Die ganze Geschichte mit den Beschwerden hat vor Jahren mit den Beinen angefangen, weil ich einfach zu viel gerannt bin. Das Rennen war für mich eine unglaubliche Entdeckung. Am Anfang ist es leicht, fast ein bisschen wie hüpfen. Die Atmung läuft von alleine, die Beine laufen von alleine, alles läuft von alleine. Dann kommt die Musik. Und auf einmal ist es da, zuerst in den Schenkeln, langsam steigt es auf, entlang der Wirbelsäule klimmt es Wirbel um Wirbel empor, bis es in die Arme fliesst und sich im ganzen Körper ausbreitet. Und dann schiesst es in den Kopf. Der Wald brennt. Ich renne durch einen brennenden Wald, es ist heiss wie in einem Backofen, und hinter mir stürzen brennende Tannen auf den Weg. Tausend Bilder jagen mit mir und schwirren um meinen Kopf herum. Wenn es eine Droge gäbe, die etwas in der Art auslösen könnte, dann wäre die ganze Welt süchtig davon.siete.3 weeks ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Nach einigen Monaten kamen dann die Schmerzen. Es war ein k
17. The True Journal of a Fake 'Communist'11/11/7117. The True Journal of a Fake 'Communist'1 month ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Had a pleasant day again, another plexiglass day with many good jokes and Larry working on it too and three new windows are in.
Each night I doubt my continuing togetherness behind being not lonely and going towards being really satisfied as a single person here. Maybe I'll call a singles meeting tomorrow.
Daniel used to say it has to do with sex. I just gain more weight and don't even want to take a bath in daylight anymore!
Today was a hectic day on plexiglass, with a lot of visitors coming and slowing down the whole process.
We finished the arc of windows, which was very nice! There were a multitude of jokes as the end drew nearer, particularly from Mike, and as corny as can be.
At first when the project started I didn't want to work with Mike because his temper looked so damned unpredictable and explosive, but I gradually found myself working with him cutting
Adventures of a CarAs I surveyed my car while my father in-law's phone rang, I considered the events which had led to this. Remarkably, I wasn't angry or upset. In spite of losing my car, I wasn't panicking. Rather, I was quite level-headed, and would soon share a laugh.Adventures of a Car1 day ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Purchasing the car had been a necessity. Just after replacing the radiator in my 1993 Buick LeSabre, I bumped into a Jeep Grand Cherokee which was traveling at about 35 miles per hour. The slight bump unhitched and bent the hood, knocked out a headlight, tore off the grille, and, to add insult to injury, bent the brand new radiator backward over the engine.
The replacement was a 2000 Ford Focus wagon. The dealer had obtained it at auction with only 58,000 miles. It was previously a corporate car. I had high expectations on that basis; since it was previously owned by a corporation, I was of the impression that the car would have been in good shape. After all, a company would care for its assets.
I had not expected what would follo
La morsa del cavallo"La garde meurt mais ne se rend pas!"La morsa del cavallo2 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Alla fine, nessuno riusciva più a scorgerlo in mezzo a quella calca che aveva alzato un polverone degno di una tormenta; le battaglie nella sabbia di quelle zone quasi desertiche rendeva tutto più difficile per quegli invasori abituati ad avere a che fare con altri terreni di battaglia. Ad uno dei suoi parve di intravederlo nello scintillare della sua spada che roteava fendenti a destra e a manca con la medesima cadenza d'un cavallo quando dressa, diversamente da quello che lui stava montando che invece si dimenava furibondo tra lo schivare le numerose minacce che assalivano anche lui e il volerle atterrare per difendere sé e chi lo aveva domato.
E non s'arrendeva; dava a tutti, amici e nemici, l'impressione che rubasse la forza di quelli che disarcionava, mozzava il capo o trafiggeva trapassandoli accarezzando quasi col brando lo sterno da dentro. Sudato; scarmigliato; ansimante; sembrava potesse da un momento all'altro esplo
Tam, gde cvetut akaciiТам, где цветут акацииTam, gde cvetut akacii2 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Мой маленький родной город, куда я вернулся после стольких лет, был всё таким же унылым и тихим, но до сих пор оставался любимым какой-то странной, н
Memories I was excited. Plastic continually crinkled in my fidgeting fingers. Dad couldn’t open the door fast enough. Stark black handle against the white screen door. Click of the handle. Creaking protest if the hinges. Metallic clinking of keys against the shiny metal doorknob. My little sister whining behind us. I danced impatiently from foot to foot on the dirty and worn welcome mat, tucked between my dad and the screen door. I could see my breath. A softer creak as the back door swung inward.Memories3 weeks ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
The tile floor groaned under our weight. I darted past Dad, kicking my boots off. Behind us, the screen door closed with a SSSSSSSSS, clunk! My feet slapped on the tiles, past the white refrigerator with the freezer door I could still fit underneath. Soft, blue carpet of the dining room. Light splashing the wall from the small, stained-glass chandelier. Wallpaper I watched Mom put up. The wooden table, covered in scratches and aged. Past the hall a
Camp McCall Memories: Battle of the BearCamp McCall Memories: Battle of the Bear1 month ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
I was asked once again to share a story of Camp McCall and my adventures there as a staffer with you guys. Oh trust me…I have a lot to share! But the tricky part is just thinking of which ones to talk about that would be entertaining and that I could easily explain. But the more I think about it…there is one story in particular that always jumps out at me. As I look back on it now, it was very funny…but at the time, there was nothing funny about this. In fact, I was quite scared. I can sum up what happened in just one sentence…one solitary grouping of words:
“Did you know I fought a bear?”
Now before you all start calling me a liar and saying it’s a lot of bull that I fought a bear, I want to make two things clear. First is that black bears are very common in the mountains of South Carolina, and we actually have rules at camp that keep kids from taking snacks into their cabins because it attracts them. Second of all, black bears are not
diez.Stellen Sie sich vor, Sie sitzen in einer feinen Runde am Tisch und der Salat wird serviert. Sie nehmen das Messer in die rechte Hand und die Gabel in die linke – wenn Sie könnten. Aber der linke Arm gehorcht Ihnen nicht. Schlaff baumelt er an Ihrer Seite nach unten wie der Ärmel einer Jacke, welche über die Stuhllehne hängt. Er lässt sich nicht bewegen. Obschon es sich für eine solche Gesellschaft nicht gehört, nehmen Sie die Gabel in die rechte Hand und spiessen das erste Salatblatt auf. Offenbar haben Sie ein medizinisches Problem, welches Sie aber zuerst selber in Ruhe ansehen möchten, bevor Sie mit anderen darüber sprechen und womöglich Fragen auftauchen, die Sie nicht beantworten können.diez.2 days ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
In diesem Moment fühlen Sie, wie Ihr linker Arm ausgestreckt nach oben wandert, und im nächsten Augenblick sitzen Sie da wie ein Schüler, der im Unterricht artig die Hand hochhält, bevor er zu schwatzen beginnt. Aber
A CRYSTAL Clear Story: My childhoodA CRYSTAL Clear Story: My childhood2 weeks ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I guess my childhood was like everyone's childhood. Full of happiness, adventures and colors. I had two best friends. My first friend was Valentine. She's was a female kitten with short soft orange/brown fur. She had a huge red colored spot around her eye in the shape of a heart. She had bright sun-yellow eyes. There are three Words that I can explain her with. The first word is "Shy" I remember that she was really shy and scared, so it was really hard for me to get to know her.
The first time I saw her was in 1st grade, she was in a corner and crying because a boy had ran into her making her drop her favorite toy into a pool of dirt. I tried to make her feel happy, asking who it was who ran into her. She sobbed and looked up, after some seconds she pointed with her tail towards a fluffy bright green colored kitten. I decided to go and talk to him, ask if he could apologize. He agreed, he told that he was sorry and from that moment Valentine and the green kitten became friends. The gre