Black Composition Notebook_Cady's Harvest_Monday_The Right Decision
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Black Composition Notebook
July 15, 2035It’s been a little while since I’ve updated this journal. I should really get better at it. Well, here’s to one more attempt at building in some level of discipline in my life! All in all, today turned out to be a pretty good day. Last week’s typhoon came and went, it was not as bad as XG22133, Dr. Willis said it was probably only about 230-259 miles per hour. God, I wish they would find a way to go back to actual names for these things. I guess when you have 30 or 40 a year, you run out of names fairly quickly. Anyway, the house survived this one again, thankfully. We’re getting ...
Cady's Harvest
Cadence sung softly as she dug clover and dandelions out of her spring garden, “And little Sir John sprung up his head, and so amazed them all.”This season’s early spring crops had surpassed expectation. She pushed in the trowel and wiggled out a turnip, holding it up for inspection. These had been transplanted from the greenhouse barely two weeks earlier but would be ready in days. Her newest compost mixture clearly made a difference, but for the second consecutive season, she had planted nearly a month www.onedoor.ccearlier than expected. “No climate change my butt,” she chuckled, cracking a sardonic smil...
Monday
aren J Keim 8058191333 kjgendusie@gmail.com#233 WRITING CONTEST: THE PROMPT: Start your story with a character struggling to remember the date, because everyday is like the last one.Monday By Karen J KeimShe woke up before light, as she did every morning. Her alarm clock never beat her. She always had to dismiss it while she was showering, or making coffee, or feeding her cat. Yet, she always set it for 6:00 am to just turn off when it was usually inconvenient. She lived alone in a one bedroom apartment in Santa Fe, New Mexico. It was within a complex on the second floor, and she drew the bl...
The Right Decision
Gaurav’s back was beginning to hurt.The rough texture of the bark was reassuring at short intervals of time but having sat on a branch for almost an hour now, it was beginning to poke at his back and legs, leaving scars he knew would stay. He would keep coming back again and again, and he would sit on that same branch in the same position, with his legs extended in front, and it would hurt later.It was good, good that he still felt something. Pain was better than feeling numb.The green leaves smelt fresh, even in the middle of the night. They felt smooth under his fingertips as he ripped them ...