My silence is my super power_What, me worry? My SUPERHERO_A Strange Tale_Someone's Hero
Catalog Guide:
My silence is my super power
I walk down the hallways of my school with my head hung low, hugging my books like I always do. But yet, I could tell that today was different, I could just feel it in my bones. To be honest, it was starting to put me on edge. But then my best friend Ryan ran up to me and started talking and suddenly, it all made sense. “Are you excited for tomorrow? I know I am. If I got a super power, I would want the ability to control people’s minds. I think that would be so cool. What about you? What do you think?” He asked me. I had to stop and look at him for a while to remember what he was talking abou...
What, me worry? My SUPERHERO
MY(SUPER) HEROWhat? Me? Worry? I was born in 1943 in New York City housing projects with that worry gene- no one knew about geneswww.onedoor.cc then- but do not know why me. Maybe it was the threat of the big war. Bomb shelters and signs for them all over. Ration cards talked about. Maybe it was because my father was drafted and my family constantly worried about him being sent overseas. Maybe money and poverty. Maybe who knows why? As a tiny thing, I’d sit and twirl my curly hair and suck my right thumb for a comfort that didn’t come. I couldn’t even talk yet. I just pulled my hair hard; I just had a sor...
A Strange Tale
The rusted train screeched to a stop as it reached the end of the railroad tracks, causing everyone aboard to groan in annoyance. The train made a horrible sound as the conductor pressed on the break, an ear piercing sccccrrrEEECHHHH. All the passengers covered the ears, including one curious little boy. He covered his ears with both hands, pressing hard, and looked at the people around him with probing glances. He wore a scruffy shirt with dirt scattered amongst it and matching dirt covered trousers. His mousy brown hair was hidden inside his ball cap, but a few curly locks had managed to esc...
Someone's Hero
It’s one of those nights where time is slow. Where my eyes are tired, but my mind is buzzing. I have to get up for work in the morning, though if anything, that just makes me more reluctant to sleep. The living room is dark for all but the lonely glow of the television. I pull my blanket around me and settle in. I’m kidding myself if I think I’m going anywhere but the fridge anytime soon. I’m watching some sort of documentary about whether the titanic was haunted – or was it whether the chef was from outer space? All this late-night television bleeds into itself now. I didn’t put this show on,...