Daily Archives: March 9, 2012
He stood in the window watching for grandpa to walk up the lane. He was getting the mail, and he told him to wait here because the winds were causing a chill. He could see way down the lane but he didn’t see his grandpa. He saw the neighbor’s dog running across the field. He saw a bunch of geese flying over the tops of the trees. He ran to the kitchen to see what time the clock said. Ten minutes. Yeah, ten minutes grandpa had been gone. He raced back to the window knowing his grandpa was on his way now, but no grandpa. He sat down and rested his chin on both hands and waited. It seemed like he had been waiting forever. His tummy was starting to growl. He was getting hungry. He got up and looked out again. Grandpa sure was taking a long time. He…
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She sat on the bench watching the people walk by. Noticing the different style of clothing they were wearing, and looking down at what she herself had on. Flip flops, short shorts, tank tops. Showing their navels. Long hair all messy. Loud chatter, tattoos on their legs, and arms. Long earrings and even ear rings in their nose and lips. What a difference time had done to the attire of young people today. It was in the mid morning, and she wondered why they were not in school. They didn’t look sick to her. She saw purple and blue eye lids, and bright red lipstick. She puller her compact mirror out of her purse and gazed at herself, and took her other hand and licked it and placed stray hairs back in place. She put her compact away and wondered about her own life.What had she done with it. How had she changed since she was a youngster. She noticed bright red nails on them and held her own hand up only to see callous and deep lines from years of hard work. Nails broken and short. She would ask her daughter if she could make them look pretty like theirs. but with a clear polish instead. She got up grabbing her walking stick to help herself. She saw her neighbor wandering down the isle waving his hand in a welcome way, letting her know he was there to pick her up. That it was time to go home. She wrapped her arm through his, handing him her package, and with her walking stick in the other, she made the journey back home.
What Would You Do?
She sat on the edge of her chair. Biting her nails. Eyebrows wrinkled together. Hearing nothing in the background at all. Nerves of steel. Sipping her coffee, waiting. Waiting for a move. Something to happen. To move forward. Feet tapping on the floor, Nerves on edge. She tried finding comfort in other people’s words, and it helped a little. She just couldn’t bring herself to leave the situation. She was scared. Scared if she left, turned away from it, she would never know the ending. She would never know whether it would ever work again. She couldn’t turn to her family to confide in. They would never understand. She knew that they would just think she was being silly and tell her to give it up. She decided to write to the administration. This would surely help in her crisis. She sent the letter after carefully choosing each word, making sure that they understood how important this matter was to her. That it could ruin her life if they didn’t help her. She waited hour and day after day, checking her mail, but nothing. The stress was becoming more evident. On the fifth day she received a reply. A letter that would have been sent to any other. She had hope once again. She had tried everything she could do,but nothing worked. She now knew she had only two choices. She could walk away, or she could just use her resources and carry on the best she knew how. She decided to stay. Facebook Games……..