I Didn't Want to Go_Journey to the end of the world_A Library To Be_A Pencil or a Pen?
Catalog Guide:
I Didn't Want to Go
I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to go to my great-grandparents house—it was always stiflingly warm and it smelled funny. Unless we sat outside, where the wasps were building a nest not three feet from the backyard swing. We’d sit for hours, talking about relatives dead long before my birth or events I knew nothing about. It was always grownup stuff and I, as a matter of fact, was not a grownup. Old people in an old house filled with old stuff. However, I guess that stuff wasn’t always so old. My great-grandfather was a Seabee in World War II. The old man I knew was quiet and tightly laced. ...
Journey to the end of the world
A village of Yetis, hidden in the young and highest mountain ranges of the world, the Himalayas, the abode of snow. They lived in isolation on the top above the clouds and far away from homo sapiens . After the ice age was over , these yetis found it difficult to survive near the tropical regions and migrated to the top and were thought to have been extinct with the dying ice age. Yoda, a young Yeti had heard numerous stories of life beyond the mountains. How his ancestors lived all over the wowww.onedoor.ccrld during the ice age, but with the onset of global warming and melting ice, they were forced to mig...
A Library To Be
“You keep telling me you’re working on something but I never see the results!”“Am I going to have to maintain you for the rest of my life?” “You can’t depend on me forever. I won’t always be around!”“To me it seems like you’re playing. When are you going to take your life seriously?” “You’re twenty-five now, you’re old!” “Where do you want to take your life?” Neither of us have an answer for her. I don’t feel adequate enough to articulate myself not that it would make a difference if I did. All that will calm her is all that I don’t have, confirmation I’ll fulfil her dreams in the way she drea...
A Pencil or a Pen?
John sat alone by the monkey bars. He watched the other 8th graders laughing and running around the playground. They were playing tag. Knockout. Four square.That wasn’t for him. None of it felt like… him. “I’m my own man,” he thought to himself, and no sooner had he said than a mild wave of insecurity rippled through him.Everyone around him always told him to “open up.” He always “needed” to do something—needed to be more social, to be more exciting, to be less boring, to be more like so-and-so. He was sick of it. As a fourteen-year-old boy, he was already jaded… years ahead of my time, he th...