Writing to Myself but Also to My Children_Untitled_Mischief Maker_THE TREE THAT BINDS
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Writing to Myself but Also to My Children
Dear Diary, Today is another day in which I sit on this busy, talkative train on the morning route to work. I’m not just sequestered to a lonely area where I’m pulging all my pertinent thoughts. In fact, I can’www.onedoor.cct—I’m sitting aside a teenager distractedly banging her head to big headphones. Her closed eyes don’t bother the sitting and standing people hanging on to metal poles and bars. Mornings are synonymous with everydayness. But I get up with a cheery smile (for Marcela), dress and feed Conner, Equestria, Emily, Cat, Tom, Celebrity and O...
Untitled
“He’s upstairs. In the library. You’ll have to wait,” she tells her and motions for the girl to sit on the hard chair. The girl wonders if she can hear her swallow in the silence. She swipes her sweaty palms on her jeans and wonders if she should have changed into a skirt or a dress or a different person altogether before presenting herself here. What was she thinking? The woman stares at the door, also waiting. Neither of them make eye contact. She was to sit here and wait for her grandfather to finish reading his latest book about Hitler invading Poland? Or to read about how the Brooklyn Bri...
Mischief Maker
Lexi snickered from behind the bushes, waiting for the human to fall into her trap. Much like her father, Lexi loved playing pranks however the other gods didn’t appreciate the antics. So Lexi took her mischief to the human world to get her fun in, without her father knowing of course. Just then the human, a man talking on a phone, stepped onto the banana peel and slide down the slanted walkway. Lexi burst into laughter and skipped away looking for her next victim.That night at home the gods were having a meeting, April 1st was coming up and it would be chaotic. Lexi’s dad, the god of mischief...
THE TREE THAT BINDS
Max was just about to reach his 10-mile milestone for the day. He glanced at his black fit-bit watch. 130 bpm Not bad. The cool breeze of the early morning streamed through Max's body with a smear of sweat covering his skin. His running shoes offering some buoyance, making him bounce on the pavement sidewalk. His jogging resembled the rising sun's ceremonial welcoming, which radiated across the Eastern horizon over the skyscrapers.Max made a left turn and entered the park, a cheat, rather than going all the way round to access his apartment located meters away from the recreational ground. Max...