While the Roses Bloom_Fireflies of Manhattan_Finding My Center_The Border
Catalog Guide:
While the Roses Bloom
The first thing that I recall when I think about the boarding school is that I had no memory of arriving there. I awoke, as if from a dream, to find myself standing completely alone on the vast stone steps leading up to the heavy wooden double doors. A vague memory of Papa yelling something at me faded to the back of my mind, and was gone before I could really grasp it. From where I stood at that moment, I could see directly below me, a rose garden. Roses of all colours seemed to be in bloom, and the path between the beds lead to a lake. Beyond that, I could see no more. Deciding that I should...
Fireflies of Manhattan
By the time I’ve stepped outside, the leaves are on fire, and the autumn light is so clean it could cut you. All around, everything is just dying away in glory on another rainless upstate day. Behind me, the prison gate clangs shut, and the guy in the guard-house says I can catch a bus down the road. So, I search my pockets for money and find it: the fifty-two dollars I had when I went in. And I breathe. I just breathe the air. It’s clean, and I’m out, and I feel a bit of hope for the first time in almost a year. I think of Dr Paulson’s words in our psych sessions. That I’m free, that even in ...
Finding My Center
By the time www.onedoor.ccI stepped outside, the leaves were on fire with colors of orange, red and gold. The beauty stopped me in my tracks. Where had I been this last month while this transformation was taking place? Autumn was my favorite time of year, yet I was missing out. I had taken no long walks along the C & O canal to take in these beautiful changes. Normally I planned for such things. I hadn’t even bought my first pumpkin spice or apple cinnamon teas or any of the other varieties of snacks that now touted those flavors.I’ve been so wrapped up in my worries over Jake, that I haven’t given myself o...
The Border
By the time I stepped outside, the leaves were on fire. Subhanallahi, I muttered silently as I rushed to the well which was close to my tent. Worse, the drawer's rope had loosened and there was no way I could draw water from the deep well. Except, of course, if I could climb down the steep and slippery ridges that paved the corners of the well rings which, so deep, seemed like a dark abyss. There had been scarcity of water in our locality. The water I had left was just a bowl which wouldn't extinguish the fire that had then started ravaging the jute leaves. The water leaves were already brown ...