Ok, I've been told my short story is TOO short..so, I've gotta tie in something to make it longer-Here is the Intro of a woman in to the story...Check it out..and let me know:) I'm still not able to get internet yet-so,I'm in a cafe temp. Miss you all.....
Wearing a sun dress, she walked down the stairs toward Bethesda. The folds of white and yellow cascading around her hips and legs like a gentle tide dancing along the sand bank. A look of bewilderment on her face, she almost missed the last step, but caught herself gracefully. Carter smiled to himself. He’d never seen her before. ‘She must be a tourist.’ he thought. Just like many tourists, she pulled out a camera and began to snap shots.
She walked all around the fountain. Fixated for some time on the detail in stone, she then turned sideways. Her eyebrows raised when she saw a man (Carter) leaned back against a tree. His pen in hand, scribbling. ‘Odd,’ she thought. He’s not even looking at the page. He was looking in the direction of some canoe’s on the river. She took a picture of him, imagining how it would look in Black and White. The man looked up at her. ‘Busted,’ she thought as her face turned several shades of pink and red like wild rouge used in the 80’s.
He began to gather his things. Carter got up and walked over to a concession stand. He bought two bottles of water, walked over to the woman and handed her one without a word. He was entranced by her. She uttered a thank you and began to apologize when he put his finger to her lips. She backed up a little, unsure and startled. He stuck out his hand and finally spoke,” Hello, I’m Carter.” His face was flushed.
“H H Hello. My name is (insert character name).” she said in a whisper that sent chills through Carter like the first winter wind…
People come and go
Writing on and on
To be seen some way
To be heard
Hello/Goodbye effect:) hehehe
This poem is about someone who is never late for work. They're like OCD with 'time'.. However, in a time like that, which is rare, the person has an option. Go to work distracted and distracting others over your morning, being frustrated and even angry, risking a blow up at work, etc. Now, I know plenty of people who could have a morning like this and you'd never know it! They are quiet individuals and either know how to compose themselves well, or really have got the whole-"leave personal at the door" rule down.
NAH! Everyone brings a little personal to work. It's inevitable and bound to happen eventually.
So, if you had a morning like this, would you go to work?
HUMAN RIGHTS: BLOGGERS UNITE !
Imagine families separated. Millions standing in constant moving lines. Stepping over bodies, bones, and blood. Their own flesh, thin, weathered, scarred , broken and bruised. Famished , so hungry they’d devour their own excrement. Like robots, they do what they are told. Until one day, they finally understand they can fight for life. They are killed. Then, the over takers are killed by the overseer.
This is not an exaggerated story. There are lands being take over. Genocide! In my poem, I’ve left it up to the reader’s interpretation in the ending. Why? The overseer could be God ridding the land of all mankind. OR, could be a dictator seeing the job he wanted, finished. Then, he kills those that did the killing, so he can start anew. Again, Left to imagination.