It's Good To Touch the Green, Green Grass of Home_The Dancing Doves_Everything Is a Gift_"L
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It's Good To Touch the Green, Green Grass of Home
Everything was loud and quiet at the same time. The air was deathly still as everyone waited for the jury to finish deliberating. The ticking clock on the courtroom’s wall sounded like miners’ pickaxes against solid rock and I could hear the rush of my own blood in my ears like the waters of the mighty roaring Niagara Falls. My heart beat as deafeningly as a battering ram against an ancient castle’s wooden gates. My pulse raced like a thousand charging cavalries in battle. Despite the cold airconditioned room, I felt sweat form under my hairline. A drop of perspiration slid down my forehead an...
The Dancing Doves
The dancing feet of the doves made an unusual and rather loud noise on the tin roof and any chance of sleep was out of the question. But it didn't really matter, because at seven-thirty the desert sun was already making its presence felt in the rapidly warming trailer and the idea of lying in bed was not a comfortable option. So the courting ritual of the white doves was tolerated.The metal bed frame gave out a weary sigh of relief as he slowly emerged from his disturbed night's sleep. His boxer shorts, strewn across the small space next to his bed were slipped on to cover his modesty, it was ...
Everything Is a Gift
From the perspective of where one witness sat at the arena that night, this was all she could offer to the police about the incident: “I saw nothing. I was in the restroom when it happened.”Then, from another one: “I was taking notes on what Mr. Jeffers was saying, so, when it all happened I was looking down at my notebook. Yeah, I guess I saw nothing.”After interviewing nearly two hundred attendees at the traumatically truncated event, after hearing an oddly similar account from those situated in various locations around the sprawling stadium that should’ve provided varying views from differe...
"Let's Get Outta Here!"
Robbie Martin was walking with his classmates in the high school hallways, moving like a herd from one classroom to another. Rather suddenly, once again there was that old familiar nasty taste in his mouth...almost metallic, he often compared it to blood. Whatever the flavor, Robbie knew another epileptic seizure was imminent...coming any second. He cautiously but deliberately began making his way over to a bank of wall lockers that he could lean upon. His friend and constant companion didn’t need to be told what was about to happen. Kenny Grenotti aka Kenny G. had been Robbie’s constant comp...