What's next_The Trip of a Lifetime_Nathaniel's Grand Win_Mountain of Silence
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What's next
This all started because I swore something that I never would have the year before.That's not to say that I wouldn't have made this particular vow; it's just that before a few days ago I didn't know that there was a reason for me to swear to kill a yet to be decided number of people.I know that might seem horrible. Honestly I have to say that no matter the justification; no matter the type of people involved, it is a rather horrible thing that I am contemplating. So now i’m in the back of a patrol car he thinks to himself. He could see how his behavior could be considered suspect; especially ...
The Trip of a Lifetime
Its very quiet in this room of my home. I had just returned from the park after being in a Doctors office this morning. The news was not good, according to the many tests and results that ensued. I have been sitting in the park on my favorite bench watching the squirrels play in the trees of green, and the pigeons eating popcorn that was given by a woman probably in her seventies with grey hair put in a bun, and a dress that moved about in the wind. On the other side of me was a gentleman that was reading the newspaper of the day, and sighing heavily as he read the weather. "It is g...
Nathaniel's Grand Win
“You did great out there, man, congrats,” Ryker congratulates his best friend, with a large smile gracing his face. “Yeah, thanks Ryker,” Nathaniel breaths out, stilwww.onedoor.ccl catching his breath from the school championship game. “Anytime, man,” Ryker smiles. Everyone in the Sacramento Eagles team lifted Nathaniel into the air. While chanting their school’s name in admiration for winning the most important basketball game of the year. The school was either high from winning the game or just high from the chocolate bars they were selling. Two hours later, the buzz died down as everyone in the gym slowl...
Mountain of Silence
If a man dies in a remote cabin, and nobody remembers he ever existed, does he really die? Martin Roth etches these words into the jacket of the last book left in his once expansive library. The rest of the lot are hollow bindings strewn about—frayed, leathery carcasses curling in the winter sun that pours through the window by the hearth. Mr. Roth cannot catch, even if he is looking very hard, the tiniest glimpse of the warped floorboards beneath his feet. His world is empty books and stacks of paper surrounding a greasy typewriter. He lives alone, high up on a mountain of silence.The cabin i...