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TOU Chp 3 Repairing the ChainSeveral hours later, Amber was at home, dressed in a bright orange nightgown which complemented her deep red curls. Sitting in front of the desktop computer in the family room, she had her email open and was typing away furiously. The chain sat next to her left hand, the computer screen's light bouncing off the plastic.
Her twelve year old brother Peter came up behind Amber and leaned down, setting his chin on her head. "Ouch, that hurt, Peter!" she snapped at him, pushing his head up with one hand. She resumed typing as Peter stood up straight and rolled his eyes.
"What'cha writin'?" he asked.
"An email to Yugi," Amber replied simply.
"Yugi Moto? Your Japanese pen pal?"
"Yep!" Amber smiled as she finished another sentence. "It's amazing he and I have been friends this long, keeping in touch."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "Okay... How long have you known each other again?"
Amber's fingers stopped typing as she thought. "Well... since we were both two or three, I guess, back when our family
is a peaceful place
on a large college campus
The dark ceiling of sky above you
Save for the hints
Of snow gray mountains ahead
Your words cling to you like rope
Never reaching another's ears
For the few that pass you are in groups
Or plug their ears with music
The light from the building glass
Reaches you, tries to pull you to it
With long, tender fingers
But you walk past, not heeding, looking up
The faint chill arms of the dark
Wrap around your arms and shoulders
A shawl, a comforter, a whispered song
Giving you a smiling solitude
is a dreaming place
on a large college campus
TOU Chp 2 - DiscoveriesAmber clutched the plastic-wrapped chain in her hand tightly to her as she approached her light blue house. Ok, as soon as I can I'll fix this chain! Maybe Mom has some links to replace the broken ones, or a way I can fix the broken pieces.
"Mom, I'm home!" she announced, shutting the front door behind her with her free hand.
"Hey, Amber, we're leaving in an hour, alright?" her mom called down to her from down the hall. She emerged from it and set some papers down on the counter. Amber looked like a younger version of her mom with rounder eyes; both mother and daughter had long red curls covering their backs, brown eyes, and freckled faces. "Can you go see what James and John are up to?"
"No prob, Mom!" Amber dropped her gray backpack ran down the stairs to where she figured her brothers would be, playing computer games.
An hour later, Amber sat in the front passenger seat of the brown minivan, staring out the window in her own thoughts. Another story idea had popped up during E
Tidbits of My Life - Sept. 28Scree. Scree. Scree.
Scree. Scree. Scree.
"Where's the fire alarm coming from this time?" I said to myself as the sound reached my ears. Walking towards the harsh shrill, eventually a blinking white light from a box-like brick building answered my question. I stood in the shade of the building for a while, watching people walk past or stand near the building. Most of them looked unconcerned about the alarm, either just walking past or talking and laughing with friends. Eventually, I decided to leave; the alarm ceased as I walked away.
Up ahead of me, I saw a familiar girl with long black hair and wearing a shirt with the name of my sci-fi/fantasy group on it. "Hi there!" I greeted her, using her online name.
She looked up and smiled. "Hey!" she replied.
"How are you?"
"Good. Are you going to Board Game Night tonight?"
"Yep!" I looked forward to Tuesday Board Game Nights.
"Awesome! I'll see you there!"
"See ya!" We continued walking in our separate ways, me smiling widely. After
Plotting A Date - AquashippingThe glorious song of the final school bell for the day pierce the classroom walls, singing into the ears of tired, bored, and excited students alike. Ryou Bakura had been one of the bored students, his long pale hair hanging over his face as he wrote something unrelated to his class notes in petite handwriting. It wasn't until he heard the lilting chatter of students around him that he lifted his head up and stopped writing. Quickly he slid his notebook and pen into the backpack sitting next to him. His gentle brown eyes scanned the room, on the lookout for any of the girls of his in-school fan club. The last thing he wanted was for even one of them to squeal and cling to his arm as they chattered on and on. With a relieved smile, Ryou smiled and stood up and his gaze fell on a familiar aqua-color haired girl talking to a brunette girl.
Both girls were his friends; Tea, the brunette, was a graceful dancer that cared a lot about her friends. The aqua-color haired girl, Catzi, mad
Tidbits of My Life - Sept. 21Scree. Scree. Scree.
Scree. Scree. Scree.
The sound of the fire alarm from the many-windowed building caught my attention in an instant. I walked over to it, at first uncertain as to what the sound was. The blinking white light I saw through a window soon answered my question.
"... fire drill." Those two words were spoken next to me. I turned to face a lanky young man and his shorter friend.
"You sure this is a fire drill?" I asked.
The lanky guy shrugged. "I hope it is."
"It's really inconvenient," his friend remarked.
"My hall's planning on doing a fire drill sometime today."
"Oh, mine too," I added. The two young men continued talking, but I walked away from them and the crowd of students and faculty waiting to go back in the building. I sat on the hot cement, the sun burning the back of my neck.
Shortly after I set my pen to paper, the alarm turned off.
From where I sit now, I watch a couple walk by. The young man waves and greets a bulkier young man walking up to the
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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