The future

Out the window it waits
Through the front door
Around the next corner
Always there
Hovering, waiting, wishing
Maybe
Only a shimmer
Not something certain
An endless possibility
Who knows
Nobody does
Perhaps
Fortune, misfortune
It goes on and on
On and on forever
Always there
Until it’s not
Future

My mind...changes

This is my attempt at saying what someone with bipolar disorder would feel like in a moment when they try to not take the pills.


My feelings are like a bag of mixed things, you never know what you are going to get. The only difference is that the flavors can change in a matter of seconds. I never know why I am thinking what I’m thinking, or if it is a true feeling, but I am just not able to control what my heart says. I feel happy and sad about 3 times a day. For no reason at all, just because. I also have different opinions on people each minute, changing my ideas and doctrines constantly. I like someone one moment and then the next I just feel hatred towards them, just like that with no warning or explanation. I would pay billions of dollars to understand my mind and everything I do, but my head is probably to tangled to even be understood by professionals. There is no logical explanation for what happens, and me an extremely down to earth and curious person, is dying to find one. The results my brain produce with any miniature alteration, or sometimes even with no change at all, have to be caused by something, and I desperately want to find out what that is. How that can be done however, is something I don’t know.

I was given millions of chances. Opportunities for me to act as I pleased were settling all around me. I ignored every single one of them, and the few that I couldn’t shove away, I just snuggled myself out of the situations. At the moment, probably caused by humiliation, pressure, or simply my freaky mind, what I was doing seemed to be the right choice. It worked sometimes and others it didn’t but I figured I should keep on doing it and so I did. Millions of times I could have said what I really thought, and millions of times did I think about doing so, but every single one of those moments I chickened out, to afraid to act. Now here I am, sitting in bed, eating ice cream and trying to be happy, the next minute, I am, and then I’m not again. I try not to, I try to resist, but I can’t. I run the bathroom and drink one of the pills. My feelings stabilize, I feel better. In a while though, I know I will feel bad again. Changing every minute, taking pills, a vicious cycle.

Can't live with them, can't live without them

I must admit it feels kind off sad to have to title my piece with a cliché. It’s not like I hate them, not at all, but all my life I have been telling myself that clichés are too typical. Too common. However, during a recent trip with my friends I learned that many times clichés are the perfect fit for a situation. During one of the dinners, over a huge portion of wonderful lasagna we were discussing the exact meaning of the word cliché. I can clearly remember myself saying that they were statements and sayings that were common and usually funny. We talked some more and got to the conclusion that they generally don’t express the truth. However, I must apologize to well known lines.
How did I notice that the definition I had for them was wrong? Another simple yet complex word: guys. The trip was very fun, but that does not mean I didn’t learn anything from it. Guys are like a different species. A day into the trip the three girls, including me, had all the things stacked into neat piles in the closet. The bathroom reeked of perfume, creams, and lotions and it wad covered with all sized bags filled with items needed for our personal hygiene. We asked the guys if they had unpacked and they said they had. But when we went into their walk in closet there was nothing there. The bathroom counter had a couple of tooth brushes and tooth pastes, and the floor of the room was littered, or organized as they saw it, with clothes, hair brushes, deodorants, cell phones ect. The difference was gigantic, but somehow we managed to enjoy ourselves. How? That is one of the unanswered questions that humanity has been pondering for ages. How it is that men and women, two species that are very similar and yet differ in almost everything, live together? Here is where the famous cliché comes in handy to describe the relationship between the seemingly different species of humans. Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.
We were surrounded by them for five days. Lots of guys, not so many girls. They were ever present in our rooms, next to us at the table, swimming up behind us in the clear pool, cheering us on as we skied. We sometimes felt as if it was too much, as if there constant being there was driving us crazy. We felt vulnerable, exposed. We were in severe need of some of that precious, quiet, relaxing, ravishing girl time that happens between girlfriends. Some other times when they were joking in the pool, or laughing instead of sleeping, we felt left out and wanted to go talk with them, be with them. What was our problem, I kept asking myself. Well, after thinking about it intently I figured out that the answer was simple, we can’t live with them, we can’t live without them. Reflecting on this brought light upon many other subjects that are continuously shown in T.V. and books. The women are always protesting about their man’s disorder, the noise, and everything else. We always say men are annoying and we are much better. However, when we are alone we look carefully for one, going on dates, getting crushes, dreaming about them. I imagine it is the same from the other way around. They probably go nuts with our frequent requests, the vanity, the need for something better all the time. When we are not there though, they work hard and long to grab a new woman, to have someone there.
So what is the explanation for the cliché? I am sadly forced to declare that after dissecting every aspect of it that was present during this amazing trip, I simply cannot answer the question. There is always the need for something that is not there, be it the presence or the absence of it. There is the need for some time both in company of guys and alone. There is the natural need for our time, with our people, time for some nice talk, and a lovely bonding. The difference between sexes will always stay a mystery, but isn’t that what makes it interesting?

Story (part 9)

With an hour and a half to go till the party, the girls emerged with calm faces and dreamy smiles plastered on their faces into the salon, where four women were sitting at the bar drinking martini’s and playing bridge. As soon as they saw the girls they quickly and unsuccessfully tried to his their drinks behind the bar. Then they ran to usher them here and there. After washing their hair, sitting them in the styling chairs, and getting to work on their hair and nails, Hadley broke the awkward silence.
“So,” She stated to the size 16 woman that was untangling her hair, staring evenly at her in the reflection of the mirror, “I want my hair cut mid upper arm, all even, with very short, edgy bangs. It has got to be perfect. Please and thanks!” Hadley threw Olivia a worried glance and Olivia threw back a fake confident smile. They usually got their hair done at Salomon’s, the best salon in Washington D.C. This by stylists they knew and loved. To their dismay, today they had all been booked and the only chance to get fixed up was at her own home solon. The other girls, however, had managed to get appointments so the rest of them were relaxed. Today was a day in which they had to look perfect and even Olivia understood that. The yearly gala at the White House was one of the biggest events all year in D.C. and magazines always covered the fake red carpet that was set up before going in, the last place were reporters were allowed. On top of everything else, the prestigious magazine Teen Vogue was doing an issue on the life of politician’s children in one month, right after their cotillion, and so they would obviously flock to her group and ask questions and comments. Now was the time, if any, to have tons of good press, and no bad press options.
“I want my hair to be cut into layers and totally straight, please. Maybe three fingers shorter, just about shoulder length. Nails clear, and half short. Other than that do your thing. Just make me look great please and thank you.” Olivia smiled at the women who were around her, and then turned her attention back to Hadley. The women took this as their cue and a quiet buzz between them started, as they pulled, dried, brushed, filed, and painted.
“Who’s your couple tonight again?” Hadley asked her friens as she stared at everything that was going on on her head intently.
“I’m going with Ryan. But I think it is sooo stupid to have a couple. I mean, the only thing you do with them is be announced as you come in as a couple. It’s just for show but I hate it ‘cause its always a big problem.” Olivia shut her eyes and rested her head back whilw the woman behing her pulled and burned it.
“I know. But I think its cute to have a thousand pictures with the guys, all of them because we always switch partners. It’s kinda funny though, we always rotate the guys like over and over. Except today, when I have to go with egomaniac Evan because my mom fixed us up. Lovely isn’t it?” Her big almond shaped eyes rolled around, and Olivia couldn’t help but laugh. Hadley’s mother had always been fixing her up with guys Had hated, and Olivia found it way too funny.
“Whatever really. Outside the pictures are with anyone who’s around and I’m guessing some group pictures for Vogue, maybe one picture with our escort as we get out of the car, and then inside it’s hang out with who ever. Always the same.” The lady fixing her nails asked Olivia something and she shook her head no. “It’s always the same thing, but these huge events are fun. Plus I love the White House.”
Hadley put her hand on her forehead indicating where she wanted her bangs, and continued talking. “I know, I love it too. But then again, who doesn’t? And you forgot to mention the part where we go and stalk Chase Richards all around and never get tired of seeing him and his gorgeous hair.” She sighed dreamily her eyes shutting close probably to form the image of the golden haired boy. Olivia did the same. All the girls in the country loved the president’s son, but not many of them had had the chance t meet him a couple of times, and go to school with him last year while he was a senior. She and her friends all loved him, and they made it a must to go flirt with him just for the fun of it.

Night clubs story (chapter 1)

I shook my head no, and wined my way through the thick crowd that was moving to the beat of the loud techno music. Why was it so hard for people to understand that I do not drink? Not like I have a problem with people who do, just that I don’t like to. The club smelled of alcohol and sweat, and the flashing lights were driving me crazy. My head was turning and I was getting a little too dizzy, so I headed for the terrace. As the fresh air punctured my lungs and the street noises broke the thumping of my ears, I felt brought back to reality. I could feel my cheeks flushing with the cold night air, and my blown out hair was flying in all directions. That one moment, I remember, was perfect. The loud music could not be heard, I was breathing the not so clean metropolitan air I was so used to, and after all I might just be able to get through the rest of the night. However, this one moment of tranquility was shattered. A slim red head in a tight black tube top and an unbelievably short skirt tumbled on to me, spilling her blue cocktail all over my new brown wrap dress. Her thin stiletto heels dug into my ballet flat clad foot, and I stumbled to the sticky floor. Just my luck, I thought bitterly to myself as the clumsy girl, who had somehow remained on her feet produced a drunken “Oops” giggled and scrambled a meter away, where a tall boy stood staring.
“Come on,” the girl purred, grabbing him by the bottom of his black T-Shirt. The guy stared at me for a couple more seconds, his eyes flashing as he decided if to help me up or not, until the girl purred something inaudible and he soberly followed her inside. I looked around and was glad to see that there was no one else around, what had these two been up to? But in a matter of seconds the gladness was overcome by anger. How dare she crash into me, spill her radioactive drink all over me, and leave me in the floor without offering as much as a word of comfort or excuse. Unless of course the delusional and intended-sexy oops counted, which it most definitely did not. The anger grew until I was also mad at the guy for standing there staring at me with plain surprise in his eyes, as if he did not know that bimbo of his was an idiot, and then for letting her pull him away by the hem of shirt without offering help. I stood up and stared down at the stained new dress. It was soaked through and all blue like. The night was getting colder and now that I was wet and sticky the wind was freezing me. I pulled up my light brown hair into a messy, sticky, smelly ponytail and then walked inside. The air was stale and smoky; even though there were a lot of lights flashing I couldn’t see a thing. What on earth am I doing here, I evaluated the scene and whipped out my cell phone dialing my cousin’s number and pushing the phone to my ear.
“Hello,” A loud voice hollered followed by a hiccup.
“Tess, I’m gonna go home okay?” I practically shouted into the small black flip phone.
“Oh nooo,” my cousin whined with a distracted voice. A mussed giggle and a strangled stop were heard, and then she spoke into the phone again. “Where are you, I’m up on the second level.” I looked up and saw her slim figure, laughing and flirting with a boy I did not recognize.
“I see you, who’s the guy?” I questioned as I moved to the front door of the club.
A hiccup, then, “I’m not sure, but he’s cuute!”
“I see,” I commented out loud while a one word description of her rolled around in my brain. “Well I’m glad you’re having a good time but I am hating it here, just as I predicted. Don’t even say anything because I am not going to listen. I’m calling a cab and going home, so I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” As I looked up I could see that she was now kissing the guy, the phone still pressed against her ear. As no answer came from the other end and I knew it didn’t matter anymore, I just closed the phone and stuffed it back in my bag. I walked outside, pretending to not notice the ogling of the bouncers as my soaked self emerged from the club and hailed a cab, or the bemused glance the doorman gave me when I walked into the elegant lobby of my building all wet, and covered in blue liquid, or the pout my Golden Retriever shot at me when I petted her in the middle of the night with my sticky hands. I’ll put this dress in the washing machine to save it, take a long hot shower, pamper my hair and skin, and then call it a day, I planned silently as I peeled off the wrap dress and put on my long fine bathrobe.

Comment on McSweeney's

Although some of the pieces read on McSweeney's were not bad, I did not like the genral type of writing. Everything seemed to be too short, lacking information, or a satire. I thought there was little variety and on top of all the oraganization of the page was terribble. Finding something was very hard. However, focusing more on the pieces, I read an interesting one called Page Six: Very Personal. I thought that it was interesting because there was no story or any writing by the author, he just strun parts of page six from different papers and about stars together in what looked like a satire of the general public being interested in the personal lives of other paople that they have never read.

Letters from WW1

The letter from a soldier in the western front to his wife in California, and her reply.

My dear Christine,

I know I promised. I am aware of the fact that I swore to you that I would be back soon, and be back an unchanged man. However, I think that I will not be able to keep this promise. I will be back, that is for sure. But the other part, of me remaining unchanged, well that’s the part I am worried about. I just got here, one week to be precise, but I already hate it. I live in a trench, with too many other men, bad food, and the constant sound of bombing and machine guns thundering in no man’s land above us. I hate to admit it, but I am scared. I’m scared for my innocence, the one I was not aware I had before getting here, scared for my life, for my fellow soldier’s life, for the stretcher bearer’s life, for you, for America, and for every single person that could ever have anything to do with this war. I thought I was prepared. I thought I was tough enough to come and go, few impacts on me, no problem at all. I thought I was the man I was, the man you fell in love with, the man everyone back in California knows. And I wish I could say that I still am, but that is not true. I cry in the morning and at night. Cry for us, for me, for humanity, for our tiny tiny soon to be born baby. It is the strangest feeling. To feel a small drop of water run down my dry and dirty cheek. I love you Christie. I can’t begin to say how much I miss you; your lovely lavender small, your pastel colored dresses, your delicious cherry pies, the comfort of our bed, our bathroom, our home. Right now, I am crying. It is about ten in the morning. A time where few shells explode, few sounds are heard, and few people are around. I am sitting on a piece of an empty food crate, a small wrinkled paper and a pen in my hand thinking about you. Yesterday one of the men from our company was killed by one of the shells. It was the first time we went over. The feeling, I can’t describe. I never thought I could be so frightened of anything before. The commander yelled, we jumped out of our trench and ran for our lives, shouts of anger coming from all our throats as if something had possessed us. We ran and ran until we could no more, the dark smoky atmosphere blocking our view, just shooting. Suddenly a cry of pain came from behind me. I turned around and saw Sam, the youngest in our company lying on the floor grunting in pain. I remember the order we are always given. Never leave a man behind. I thanked the lord for the chance to go back to the safe trench, only now realizing that it was greedy, but the fear taking over me. I run to Sam, and grab him by the shoulders. You can’t imagine how hard it was to drag one man seventy yards back to the trenches, going over the uneven land, the small, dead, tree stumps, and throwing him inside the trench. Then I jumped in and was taken aback to see the many injured bodies of men from my company, my friends, bleeding and being attended to by nurses that now seemed immune to sadness of it all. But I’m okay, I survived. I have to go now, m beautiful Christie, but remember my promise. I will be back to see our lovely son or daughter growing up. The war will be over by Christmas. Have a pie ready, because any day now I will be next to you, hugging you and helping you out, enjoying the perfect life we will lead when I get back. Be strong for me, Christie, I love you, and I will be back soon.

Lots of love,

Ralph (the husband that will be back)



My dear Ralph,

You don’t know how glad I was to hear from you. To sort through the mail, and find a small letter mailed from France. I cry too, you know. I cried as soon as I saw the envelope, I cried for hours after I read your letter. You are the man I fell in love with, the man we all know you are. I try to understand your pain, to be happy for you, to be strong for you. I made the pie. I will make one every day, and you can dream that you are eating it. Being here, at home, in our new victory garden, watching my belly grow little by little. I will never stop thinking that you are the best man in the world, that you are the man I’m supposed to be with. Crying does not take anything away from you, being scared, not at all. I love you Ralph. You know it, and you know that I am waiting for you. Any day you come home, I will be ready to receive you, my arms open and a freshly backed pie waiting in the kitchen window. Be strong, my love, and let the feelings come. I thank god that you are still with me after that first race against death. You saved man! You saved yourself, and you saved me. America is waiting for you, praying for you, sending you love and strength. You are my man; you will always be, no matter what. I will be here, always. Home is sad without you, but I can’t say I have nothing do all day. I have joined an organization. I work every day during the week. I know you will be worried about the baby, but this job is in a nice house that serves as the headquarters for a fundraising organization here. I sit with other women and we draw posters, count money, and fill out paper work. I miss you so much, and I feel like I need to help so I am doing this to help. On top of that I planted a victory garden, we all did. The whole town is now being run by women, it is different and fun in a way, but we want our men back. I went to the doctor yesterday to check the baby and he said it was a boy. We are having a son! I want you to pick the name. The crumpled letter you wrote, the small handwriting you have, it all made me laugh and cry. If I could I would send a care package with good food, clean uniforms, and a perfume I would. Ralph, I feel as proud of you as I could ever be, I think that even if you do come back home changed, I will just be glad you are back with me. I have to go because I need to take the pie out of the oven. Write back as soon as you can my dear Ralph, because seeing the small, tear stained paper you sent me makes my day. I love you, I am here for you, supporting you, being strong, the baby and me, we both send you lots of love and kisses. We think about you day and night, and I promise I will cry will with you in the morning and at night.

All our love,

Christine and your son (waiting for you with a pie)

Punctuation Exercice

The prairie in front of her was amazing, all green and lush, Beautiful from everywhere around to anywhere you looked, It was hardly possible to believe that no one lived In these lands, that no one wanted the large green nothingness filled with animals, little puddles, flowers, and a lovely small, Behind her she could gear her baby sister crying, complaining to the way in which her mother carried her or the way her father’s sweated as he dragged the logs and the timber from the cart, to start building a house here in the west, The beautiful west, She couldn’t understand the real reason from moving from the city in the coast, but her parents had decided and at sixteen years old there was not a whole bunch of options available for Katia, Her brother panted next to her as he began the tiresome job of building a cabin for them to live in, This was going to be their home for ever, they were settling in a new land and establishing a new place, center for new people, She turned around from the stretch of land in front of her, but as she stood now she could also an endless vast stretch of grass,
Day after day they lugged wood here, hammered there, slept in the cart and ate, Katia had to help too, everyone did except for her baby sister, In a couple of months the house was ready and her dad and her brother departed to buy furniture and food, by this time other people had come into the prairie, and were settling and making houses all around them, She had made some friends now, and was starting to go to one of the neighboring carts to get some schooling there with two other girls, They were living an okay life, and she liked the nature but she missed the city and all her friends, Her dad and her brother came back with things and a market was set, an official school was being built, and many people were arriving, In a short time all houses were finished and the prairie had little nature left, She grew old there, watching as people came and took up every inch of it, making houses, growing crops, and when she passed away the big stretch of green was now a big stretch of houses, schools, shops, and the prairie in it was gone, the city cramped, and there was no more west to move to.

Story (part 8)

When the girls opened the door the in-house-spa was busy with women in white robes walking around, several TVs tunned to different news and home cahnels, newspaper pages flipping, and the chime of fresh gossip in the air. There were several growm women in different stations of the salon part of the giant room. The spa was divided into the spa and the salon, one to realax and get massages and cleaning therapies, and the other to get all prepped for the common galas and dinner parties. There were three tan styling chairs with their respective stations, one tanning bed, two …… with rolling mani pedi carts next to them, and a wet bar at the far end. A sliding opaque, soundproof door separated the massage space from the slaon.
“Hey mom,” Olivia said to one of the woman who was currently sitting on a styling chair having her hair straightened by a woman.
“Hi girls!” Mrs. Brown said gleefully as she gulped down the last of her champagne flute. “We are almost done here,” She added motioning to the woman who were now all staring at the two girls. “Why don’t you go into the spa and then when you are done there we will be out of your way here. We will see you at the gala looking adorable I hope.”
“Sure mom, that sounds great. Thanks. Bye!” Olivia finished with a measured tone that proved to be effective to get her mom to think she had no worries in life. Hadley pronounced her thanks and her goodbye’s to the women congregated and both moved to the sliding door. In contrast to the eternal hum of machines, blow dries, people, and TVs in the room they had just left, the spa contained only the sound of the quiet zen fountains and the soft elody of one of the Enya Cds that was always kept playing. As soon as they walked into the room two women in blue robes stood up from a desk with a computer and a phone to attend to them.
“Would you like to get started with the mud bath and then move on with the aroma therpy and the two massages you scheduled?” Asked the taler of the two, her small hands joining infront of her chest and her Asian face producing a serene tone.
Olivia looked at Hadley to see what she thought of the itinerary for tehe one hour spa treatment and when she grinned sheepishly back Olivia said that would be perfect. Hadley grinned all he way to the changing room where they took off all their clothes and replaced them with a lavender, flimsy, silk robe. Olivia started to laugh. She couldn’t help it, seeing the delight in her best friend’s face was so funny. Hadley was a spa girl. She got one treatment every two months just like all the other girls in heir clique at Olivia’s house, but today was an extra one that was booked for preparation to a special evening. They went back into the main loft where a Jacuzzi filled with bubling brown goo welcomed them. The women brought each of the girls a tube with Clinique Deep Cleansing Emergency Mask. Hadley expertly spread hers evenly on her face and then moved on to even out the bumpy mask that was covering Olivia’s face. Then both of them got in the tub and sat down, absorbed in their thoughts

Story (part 7)

Hadley plopped down on the soft bed besides Olivia, who had been reading magazines. She put the latest issue of people, which was delivered to her door every week, down on the duvet and sighed loudly.
“I have a small problem.” Olivia declared with a tired glance, as her cheeks blushed and she sighed once more. Hadley rubbed her palms on her True Religion dark wash jeans and picked up the magazine her friend had just put down.
“You are blushing seriously and sighing way too much, so it has got to be bad. I’m all ears O.”
“Well, the slight problem is a dream. You can’t tell anyone okay?” Olivia trilled with worry.
“Come on, you know I won’t. Do you mind if I look at pics while you talk?” Prodded Hadley as she flipped pages.
“No, of course not. Anyway, I kinda fell asleep as soon as you guys left ‘cause I had to wake up way early this morning and when I woke up I was about to be kissed. By a seriously cute but all wrong guy.” At the sound of the word kiss Hadley lifted her gaze eagerly and an earnest grin spread all over her face. Hadley and all the other girls loved the idea that the very attractive and almost perfect Olivia had never been kissed at the age of 17. She always argued she was waiting for the right guy and the right moments, and it was hard for them to believe that she was a romantic inside.
“ A kiss ha,” giggled-pressed Hadley. “And who might the lucky guy be Olive?”
“Had, you are off the point here,” Olivia whined climbing off the bed and into her computer chair. “The point and problem is that the guy who will remain anonymous for now was not my life time crush Evan, but a close friend since forever. And to make things worse I really wanted to go back to sleep to see what it would be like. I went online and got on some dream dictionaries to see what kissing an ld friend means and all the definitions point to trouble.” Olivia read the definitions she had found to Hadley who was listening to all of her friend’s dilemma cheerfully.
“Let me guess, the guy was Sam.” Hadley flipped through some more pages as if what she had just announced had no meaning whatsoever and Olivia almost choked.
“How on earth did you know that Had?”
“Oh, come on! We all know you and him were meant to be together. He loves you and you love him, and that has always been true. Both of you, however, try to evade the fact and pretend to have crushes on other people to hide it from yourselves.” Hadley sated matter of factly, putting down the magazine and looking at her friend in the eye. Olivia opened her mouth to say something but Hadley cut her out quickly. “Why do you think it is that your crush since forever, the first grade to be more precise has been Evan Brady while the rest of the world has changed a couple of hundred times? It is most definitely not because you are mad in love with him, you barley even notice him. It is just because you have him there as a cover up for your real love, Sam, who you weren’t even aware you liked until today, thank god. Look O, its okay. It is normal that your body is cooking these images up. You need to kiss someone, like, now! And that someone obviously has to be Sam. Know it or not, that’s the guy you have been waiting for all along. And I know you’re going to protest but we all know it, except you two. I respect your pureness, but for god’s sake it’s time to get a nice wet one.” Hadley concluded quoting a line from their all time favorite childhood movie, Little Rascals.
Olivia was stunned. Trying to digest all the information she had just been given was not easy. She opened and closed her mouth unable to produce any sound a couple of times, and then she just collapsed into the big feather duvet, hoping it would swallow her whole. After a couple of minutes she sat up again and gazed at her friends eyes steadily.
“I don’t believe you.” Olivia managed, her voice croaking as her brain ran over the millions of scenes and memories she had stored of her and Sam, and noticing that there were more than of her and anyone else she knew. Oh god, she thought, it’s true…all of it! It can’t be…
“I knew you wouldn’t outside, but deep down you are now thinking about it and realizing that it is all true. O, forget about the dream, about the 411 I just gave you, and lets get down stairs to the pas to get ready for tonight. The guys will be here in just three hours and we have a lot to do. She stood up and walked out of Olivia’s room and through the house as if it was her own until she reached a big bamboo door, all the time with a still staggered Olivia at her tail.

Long summer

Melissa giggled to herself as she turned the page of her newest chick flick. Suddenly, a not to eager a not to bored yet not to eager “Hi!” interrupted her. Just by hearing that practiced measured tone and the ring of confidence that loomed after it, Melissa could conclude a few things about the owner of the voice. Number one, the girl was part of the social elite (very common where she was). Number two, the girl had a perfect tan and a Sports Illustrated worthy body. Number three, she didn’t eat, but that was an easy one. After all, they were in the Hamptons, and anybody who was a somebody in East Hampton did not eat.
Pushing her old-not vintage, just plain old-fossil shades up her forehead, Melissa studied the girl towering above her. She smiled. As predicted the girl was beautiful. The swimsuit model body, the skin commercial tan, her L’Oreal perfect honey hair, and deep bright green eyes contrasted perfectly with the Michael Kors orange bikini she was sporting.
“Hi.” Melissa answered warmly.
The girl smiled at Melissa and held out a neatly French manicured hand. “I’m Jessica Hovel. My parents were talking to yours and they pointed me in your direction.” Melissa extended her own non manicured hand and shook Jessica’s promptly.
“I’m Melissa Carlyle. Nice to meet you. Wanna sit down?” She added seeing that her new acquaintance was still standing, and she was squinting up at her awkwardly.
“Yeah, thanks,” Jessica cooed smoothing down the towel where she would be sitting. “So,” she drawled, “I heard that you guys just got a house here. That’s awesome. I’ve been coming for ever so if you need anything just tell me.” She half bragged half offered as she smothered her brown body with sun tanning lotion.
Melissa smiled at her new friend. “Oh thanks, I will. Actually I have been here once before, when I was a kid. But things have definitely changed.”
Jessica raked her fingers through he wavy hair, pulling it into a messy bun. The stray hairs framed her high cheekbones.
“Totally. Now everything is so much better. Do you have a cell phone?” Jessica asked taking her pink sidekick out of the orange Hermes beach bag.
“Um, yeah,” answered Melissa momentarily flustered with the display of a couple thousand dollars worth of merchandise, the well thought color scheme, and the way it all fit perfectly with the expensive beach day mood that hung in the air. Recovering she pulled her white Razr Slide out of a beach bag, a gift from Pepsi one time she had attended a beach volley-ball tournament in Tampa. The girls traded numbers and put the phones away. As if on cue, a bright pink jaguar, no top, stopped on the boardwalk above them, honking twice.
“That’s me!” Jessica announced, standing up and throwing the Hermes bag over her shoulder. “It was great meeting you! Give me a call tonight to see if we can meet. Here in the Hampton’s we do something every night!”
“Okay. That sounds fun, thanks Jessica.” replied Melissa. Jessica air kissed her on both cheeks. Melissa watched her walk away on her long slim legs. Just before getting in the car she turned around and hollered, “By the way, call me Jess. Everyone does!” She winked, jumped in the car, and she was gone. Melissa rolled her eyes as she read the license plate on the Jaguar as it rushed off. It said, in glittery letters “Glam01”. This is going to be a long summer, she thought to herself as she picked up her book and lowered her sunglasses.

Poem

Loud long thunders crashing outside
Windows shutter, kids cry
Thick raindrops lashing the glass
Tears match the down pour
Running down my face
The sun disappears, the sunshine in me too
Clouds cover the sky and sadness clouds my view
Shivering people tucked under blankets
I take off the scratchy wool and let the cold fill me
A thunder, a scream, rain falling
Never ending gloominess all over inside and out
Today my heart matches the weather
And my face against the wet windows shows it all

Sherer Academy 2

Ignoring the party I walked up the first flight of stairs and then to the end of the hall, to my small but cozy room. The wall opposite to the door was plastered with a long cork board filled with magazine cuttings or pictures of my friends and family. Against it lay a small bed, exact to all the others in the dorm, and on it the scratchy wool blankets that they had provided each bed with at the beginning of the year. Although they were there, it was like a silent rule that they could not be used. Every other bed was draped with expensive designer sheets and fluffy feather duvet covers. The square window that looked over the lush green quad was decorated with a simple white linen curtain, and on the wall opposite to the bed was a small wooden desk. The room was also furnished with a big wardrobe, only half filled with my Macy’s and Wall Mart clothes, and the occasional Gap or Abercrombie sweater. I tossed my Paris stenciled tote bag on the floor, and dove on the hard bed, pulling my latest novel from under the bed. After reading about two pages I sat up ans stared up angrily at the celing. My head hurt because of the loud hum of the music and I could not concentrate on my book, so I stood up and and headed towards the computer center, which no one except me used beause they all had laptops. As usual, I felt happy as the soundproof (designed fro working), warm, soft humming ambiance of the computer room welcomed me in. While logging in I evaluated the sad situation, but strangely felt reassured of the awesome time I was going to be having during the break back home for two weeks and then one week all alone in New York. Automatically, the school e-mail which everyone used around here to IM and talk popped and I saw I had two unread messages since this lunch.

From: The Dean
To: Classes of 2008 and 2009
Date: December 14, 2008-2:07 P.M.
Subject: Winter Break

Hello Junior students. I am aware that you are all very excited about your break and eager to begin the celebrations, but I wanted to warn you that this year the traditional before break party will NOT be allowed. We will make sure that anyone that attends will be put in detention, and will have it on their transcript. I also wanted to remind you that school will begin on January 7, no exceptions. If you arrive late you will be marked as absent, and you will not be excused, no matter what. Other than that don’t forget to complete your winter assignments, and have a good holiday.
Sincerely,
Dean Richards


A little too late, Dean Richards, I thought to my self as I chuckled quietly. The next inbox was from my sister. Quick and simple yet strong like many others I had reciebed so far. But it didn’t surprise me at all, after all my sister had always been a little mello dramatic.

From: nessahopkins@aol.com
To: vhopkins@ sherer.edu
Date: December 14, 2008-6:57 P.M.
Subject: Arghh!!!

I hate living here. U R so lucky, I am SO going to boarding school too. Xo,

You loving-but-annoyed-with-our-family-and-small-town sis

Sherer Academy

I was walking calmly through the quad when a soccer ball came out of nowhere and grazed my arm. I turned around, sure that a moment ago there had been no one around, to see yet again, the empty campus. No one was around, but the ball was still rolling around in the grass with the momentum of someone throwing it at me. I kept on walking, racking my brain for ideas on where the ball could have possibly come from, immediately discarding windows as they were all too far away. A twig snapped behind me, and again I turned to look. This time I saw a person pushing up behind one of the thick trees, and after a few seconds I saw another figure dash from behind one tree to another. Boys. Of course, who else could it be, seeing as all the girls were in the dorm at the Pre-Christmas bash I had not been invited to. I went up to the ball, picked it up, and tossed it towards the guys behind the trees. I guess they wanted me to get mad, but I just wasn’t in the mood, not anymore. I had been new at the über-exclusive Sherer Academy, NH this August, and now almost half a year later I was still friendless. True, my appearance might not help me gain points with the New York society kids that attended here, but the fact that I came from a small town in Iowa or that I was on a scholarship here was a big part of the outcast problem too. I tried for four months to make friends, a skill which I had always possessed no matter where I was, but the people here are too superficial and just by glancing at my glasses and my braces they had ruled me out. All my attempts of being courteous and kind were destroyed by the orderly fashion they used to bug me about this or that, or by the not so subtle comments on my look. Boys would throw stuff at me, girls would point and laugh, and I was just not ready to ignore so I exploded and shouted and cursed for a long time. But two months ago I had reached the conclusion that having a sore throat al the time was not worth it, so I had learned to ignore. Now I ate alone, slept in a single, walked alone, and entertained myself by a larger amount of reading than usual. Thank god for the humongous library. And thank god tomorrow was the first day of winter break. I missed the warmth of my family, if you could call it warmth; I missed the comfort of my house and the gossip with my friends. As I thought about it I noticed I missed everything I had wanted to get away from when I decided to come to boarding school. I reached out and pushed the big oak door of the Marie Curie Dorm, welcoming the warm feel of the room that instantly flushed my cheeks and gave me a certain feeling of warmth. I could hear the music pumping up above me in the roof terrace, and the occasional laughter of a girl or two who came downstairs to get something, namely cigarettes.

The different twins

Chase groaned as he hit the snooze button on his alarm clock for what seemed like the hundredth time. The room went quite yet again and he shifted in his bed looking for a comfortable position. Unable to go back to sleep, Chase opened his eyes and stretched. He looked at the clock on his night table. “Crap” he cursed under his breath as he hurried himself of the bed and into his bathroom. It was 6:40 and school started at 7:30. Normally he wouldn’t have cared, but this week was an exception. Chase wasn’t a bad student, he wasn’t dumb or stupid, but he wasn’t very dedicated either. He didn’t hate school but he was in no rush to get there and it was his custom to arrive late to class. Last week Mr. Rembrant, the school principal, had called his parents and warned them that if Chase was late one more he would have his third detention in a month. His parents had not taken the news well, and he was deeply grounded. No TV, no iPod, and he had to go straight home from school. This punishment was killing Chase, and thankfully his parents had told him that if he finished the month without any tardies or any other disciplinary problems his punishment would be lifted.

Chase took a quick shower and got dressed in a hurry. Then he quickly turned on his computer. “Come on,” he urged the screen while he sat down on the chair. When the computer was finally done booting up, it opened up to a word document occupied by a sole word at the top: Conscription. I’m dead, Chase thought as he quickly typed up the few facts he new about mandatory military service, and tried to weave it into a short essay. After some time of hitting the keys urgently, Chase looked at the clock on the screen. It read 7:03. Knowing that the work he had done could have been done ten times better by a five year old, he pressed print. Crossing his room in a jog he opened the door and slammed it close. He ran through the narrow hall and reached the stairs which he flew down through. He reached the first floor and made his way to the white marble kitchen.


***

Rebecca gathered the books that were orderly stacked on her desk and placed them inside her lime green Jeansport backpack. She eyed the clock that sat on her night table. It read 7:02. She went to the bathroom removed and rinsed her retainer, and proceeded to put moisturizing cream on her hands and face. After that she clipped her wavy hair in the back with a modest clip which blended in perfectly with her light brown hair. She checked her reflection in the mirror and gave herself a nod of approval. She exited her bathroom and headed for the door of her room. Outside she strode through the hallway lined with painting and doors, and then she descended into the first floor.

Rebecca crossed the ample living room and walked into the dining room. We should use the dining room more often, she thought. It is beautiful and a big waste. “Ewww,” she said with disgust as she walked into the long kitchen. “Can’t you use a cup. It’s really not that hard. I’ll walk you through the steps if you want.”

Chase lowered the milk carton from his lips and grinned. “That is very considerate of you but no thank you. You see this way I’m helping the environment. If I don’t use a cup then its one cup less we have to wash, and more water is saved that way.”

“Very funny,” Rebecca replied crossly. She walked towards the fridge and took out a peach and the orange juice. Then she opened one of the many cabinets and took out a cup in which she poured herself some orange juice. She sat down in the small wooden table at the end of the kitchen and ate her breakfast quietly. “Did you finish the Spanish homework?” she asked.

“Crap,” Chase cursed loudly.

“Chase,” a grown voice reprimanded as a tall woman entered the kitchen.

The dolphins

The sun shone down on the river intensely, the water glimmering under its powerful rays. Insect flew around peacefully, frogs swam through the river, and fish played in the water happily. Far away, a couple of pink dolphins jumped up and down carelessly. One of them jumped up high and while in the air emitted a loud cry. The other dolphin imitated tem and both of them continued swimming. Suddenly, a wave began forming at the farthest end of the river. It grew and grew, and animals went into panic, all except the dolphins. Frogs jumped onto the trees, birds flew the other way, crickets chirped like crazy, and fish tried desperately to beat the wave. When it finally reached the two dolphins, they stood still and let the wave crash through their strong bodies. When it did, both of them fell into nothingness. They fell for about thirty seconds and then they reached the bottom of the river. However, this bottom of the river was not like any of the ones people usually imagine. There was a strip of seaweeds creating what looked like a street right under the two dolphins. To their sides there were tall formations of rock, with little wholes at regular intervals, through which some dolphins could be seen coming in and out. At some places, the rocks had starfish lined in symbols on top of or next to big wholes, and at these there where a lot of dolphins going in and out, some with jelly fish filled with fish. The dolphins nodded at each other, and then split, one moving straight and the other going to the left. The one with the strongest pink shade swam for about seven minutes before reaching a fork in the seaweed street, and then took the left street. At the far end there was a dead end, and some more rock with more starfish symbols on top of a big whole. The dolphin deftly maneuvered its way into the building, and kept on going onto a tree trunk desk. “Hello. I’m here to talk to the governor,” said the dolphin with a strong thick voice. “Oh yes one second please, Slate” said the dolphin behind the desk picking up a shell and putting it up to her ear. After some time of aha-ing and nodding she told him to go in. Slate swam steadily through a corridor with many doors, until he reached a big one at the far right. He banged the door with his long nose, and went inside. “Hello sir,” greeted Slate politely. “How do you do?” “Oh just fine Slate. What do you have for me?”Answered the stern dolphin. “Well sir, we found out, with Rufus, that there is a party to celebrate a big birthday tonight in the Ticuno community of Santa Rita. I was thinking about going there tonight and capture one girl, and bring her straight here. Then we can put her in the human jail.” “Slate, you are just brilliant. Do so.” With that he turned back to some large leaves filled with symbols. “Thank you sir, I will see you tonight.” Slate said, and then he left through the door and back out to the street. He made a couple of turns and then reached a small whole. When he went in he saw Rufus sitting on the couch reading some leaves. “Hey we have to go, our job is on” He said with a tug on Rufus’ fin. “Oh yeah, lets go” Rufus answered, a wide grin spreading across his face. They both moved toward a closet where they extracted two drench coats and two hats. They slipped the coats on, fixing them so the bump on their back would not be seen and then put the hat on, covering the breathing whole. Then, they walked to another closet, which they opened eagerly. Inside there was nothing, just a big empty space that continued rising. Rufus got in and began swimming up, and Slate followed suit happily. On the surface of the river, the sun was setting, a magical pink haze hung over the river. In the distance music and shouting could be heard. The two dolphins erupted into the surface disturbing the calm water, and began laughing with their high cries, following the sound. They reached a place in the land that seemed to be lit up, and then they came out of the water and expertly fixed their disguises. “Lets meet right here in thirty minutes, each with a girl,” commanded Slate, his voice impatient. “All right,” replied Rufus, the eagerness sounding in his voice too. Both walked through some trees and reached a big clearing that was lit up by torches. In the center four people were shouting happily and playing music, while around them the rest of the people danced or talked to each other. Each dolphin went its own way, and began observing every girl that passed by. After about thirty minutes, Slate went close to a girl who could not have been older than twenty, her dark skin and green eyes shining under the night and the fire. He inched his way until he was standing behind her and began pushing her away from the crowd. Startled she looked back, and saw a man with a hat, so she decided to let herself be taken away. At the other end of the party, Rufus was doing the same, the girl with the violet eyes and pale skin delighted at having a suitor. They both met newt to the river, and with a gleeful laugh looked up at their catch. The girls emitted loud cries of anguish, they had heard the story and they knew what was coming. The dolphins, ignorant to the sad mood, winked at each other, grabbed the girls and jumped back into the mighty river. The girls were gone, forever.

Dolphinas can be evil

The sun shone down on the river intensely, the water glimmering under its powerful rays. Insect flew around peacefully, frogs swam through the river, and fish played in the water happily. Far away, a couple of pink dolphins jumped up and down carelessly. One of them jumped up high and while in the air emitted a loud cry. The other dolphin imitated tem and both of them continued swimming. Suddenly, a wave began forming at the farthest end of the river. It grew and grew, and animals went into panic, all except the dolphins. Frogs jumped onto the trees, birds flew the other way, crickets chirped like crazy, and fish tried desperately to beat the wave. When it finally reached the two dolphins, they stood still and let the wave crash through their strong bodies. When it did, both of them fell into nothingness. They fell for about thirty seconds and then they reached the bottom of the river. However, this bottom of the river was not like any of the ones people usually imagine. There was a strip of seaweeds creating what looked like a street right under the two dolphins. To their sides there were tall formations of rock, with little wholes at regular intervals, through which some dolphins could be seen coming in and out. At some places, the rocks had starfish lined in symbols on top of or next to big wholes, and at these there where a lot of dolphins going in and out, some with jelly fish filled with fish. The dolphins nodded at each other, and then split, one moving straight and the other going to the left. The one with the strongest pink shade swam for about seven minutes before reaching a fork in the seaweed street, and then took the left street. At the far end there was a dead end, and some more rock with more starfish symbols on top of a big whole. The dolphin deftly maneuvered its way into the building, and kept on going onto a tree trunk desk. “Hello. I’m here to talk to the governor,” said the dolphin with a strong thick voice. “Oh yes one second please, Slate” said the dolphin behind the desk picking up a shell and putting it up to her ear. After some time of aha-ing and nodding she told him to go in. Slate swam steadily through a corridor with many doors, until he reached a big one at the far right. He banged the door with his long nose, and went inside. “Hello sir,” greeted Slate politely. “How do you do?” “Oh just fine Slate. What do you have for me?”Answered the stern dolphin. “Well sir, we found out, with Rufus, that there is a party to celebrate a big birthday tonight in the Ticuno community of Santa Rita. I was thinking about going there tonight and capture one girl, and bring her straight here. Then we can put her in the human jail.” “Slate, you are just brilliant. Do so.” With that he turned back to some large leaves filled with symbols. “Thank you sir, I will see you tonight.” Slate said, and then he left through the door and back out to the street. He made a couple of turns and then reached a small whole. When he went in he saw Rufus sitting on the couch reading some leaves. “Hey we have to go, our job is on” He said with a tug on Rufus’ fin. “Oh yeah, lets go” Rufus answered, a wide grin spreading across his face. They both moved toward a closet where they extracted two drench coats and two hats. They slipped the coats on, fixing them so the bump on their back would not be seen and then put the hat on, covering the breathing whole. Then, they walked to another closet, which they opened eagerly. Inside there was nothing, just a big empty space that continued rising. Rufus got in and began swimming up, and Slate followed suit happily. On the surface of the river, the sun was setting, a magical pink haze hung over the river. In the distance music and shouting could be heard. The two dolphins erupted into the surface disturbing the calm water, and began laughing with their high cries, following the sound. They reached a place in the land that seemed to be lit up, and then they came out of the water and expertly fixed their disguises. “Lets meet right here in thirty minutes, each with a girl,” commanded Slate, his voice impatient. “All right,” replied Rufus, the eagerness sounding in his voice too. Both walked through some trees and reached a big clearing that was lit up by torches. In the center four people were shouting happily and playing music, while around them the rest of the people danced or talked to each other. Each dolphin went its own way, and began observing every girl that passed by. After about thirty minutes, Slate went close to a girl who could not have been older than twenty, her dark skin and green eyes shining under the night and the fire. He inched his way until he was standing behind her and began pushing her away from the crowd. Startled she looked back, and saw a man with a hat, so she decided to let herself be taken away. At the other end of the party, Rufus was doing the same, the girl with the violet eyes and pale skin delighted at having a suitor. They both met newt to the river, and with a gleeful laugh looked up at their catch. The girls emitted loud cries of anguish, they had heard the story and they knew what was coming. The dolphins, ignorant to the sad mood, winked at each other, grabbed the girls and jumped back into the mighty river. The girls were gone, forever.

Dolphins can be evil

The sun shone down on the river intensely, the water glimmering under its powerful rays. Insect flew around peacefully, frogs swam through the river, and fish played in the water happily. Far away, a couple of pink dolphins jumped up and down carelessly. One of them jumped up high and while in the air emitted a loud cry. The other dolphin imitated tem and both of them continued swimming. Suddenly, a wave began forming at the farthest end of the river. It grew and grew, and animals went into panic, all except the dolphins. Frogs jumped onto the trees, birds flew the other way, crickets chirped like crazy, and fish tried desperately to beat the wave. When it finally reached the two dolphins, they stood still and let the wave crash through their strong bodies. When it did, both of them fell into nothingness. They fell for about thirty seconds and then they reached the bottom of the river. However, this bottom of the river was not like any of the ones people usually imagine. There was a strip of seaweeds creating what looked like a street right under the two dolphins. To their sides there were tall formations of rock, with little wholes at regular intervals, through which some dolphins could be seen coming in and out. At some places, the rocks had starfish lined in symbols on top of or next to big wholes, and at these there where a lot of dolphins going in and out, some with jelly fish filled with fish. The dolphins nodded at each other, and then split, one moving straight and the other going to the left. The one with the strongest pink shade swam for about seven minutes before reaching a fork in the seaweed street, and then took the left street. At the far end there was a dead end, and some more rock with more starfish symbols on top of a big whole. The dolphin deftly maneuvered its way into the building, and kept on going onto a tree trunk desk. “Hello. I’m here to talk to the governor,” said the dolphin with a strong thick voice. “Oh yes one second please, Slate” said the dolphin behind the desk picking up a shell and putting it up to her ear. After some time of aha-ing and nodding she told him to go in. Slate swam steadily through a corridor with many doors, until he reached a big one at the far right. He banged the door with his long nose, and went inside. “Hello sir,” greeted Slate politely. “How do you do?” “Oh just fine Slate. What do you have for me?”Answered the stern dolphin. “Well sir, we found out, with Rufus, that there is a party to celebrate a big birthday tonight in the Ticuno community of Santa Rita. I was thinking about going there tonight and capture one girl, and bring her straight here. Then we can put her in the human jail.” “Slate, you are just brilliant. Do so.” With that he turned back to some large leaves filled with symbols. “Thank you sir, I will see you tonight.” Slate said, and then he left through the door and back out to the street. He made a couple of turns and then reached a small whole. When he went in he saw Rufus sitting on the couch reading some leaves. “Hey we have to go, our job is on” He said with a tug on Rufus’ fin. “Oh yeah, lets go” Rufus answered, a wide grin spreading across his face. They both moved toward a closet where they extracted two drench coats and two hats. They slipped the coats on, fixing them so the bump on their back would not be seen and then put the hat on, covering the breathing whole. Then, they walked to another closet, which they opened eagerly. Inside there was nothing, just a big empty space that continued rising. Rufus got in and began swimming up, and Slate followed suit happily. On the surface of the river, the sun was setting, a magical pink haze hung over the river. In the distance music and shouting could be heard. The two dolphins erupted into the surface disturbing the calm water, and began laughing with their high cries, following the sound. They reached a place in the land that seemed to be lit up, and then they came out of the water and expertly fixed their disguises. “Lets meet right here in thirty minutes, each with a girl,” commanded Slate, his voice impatient. “All right,” replied Rufus, the eagerness sounding in his voice too. Both walked through some trees and reached a big clearing that was lit up by torches. In the center four people were shouting happily and playing music, while around them the rest of the people danced or talked to each other. Each dolphin went its own way, and began observing every girl that passed by. After about thirty minutes, Slate went close to a girl who could not have been older than twenty, her dark skin and green eyes shining under the night and the fire. He inched his way until he was standing behind her and began pushing her away from the crowd. Startled she looked back, and saw a man with a hat, so she decided to let herself be taken away. At the other end of the party, Rufus was doing the same, the girl with the violet eyes and pale skin delighted at having a suitor. They both met newt to the river, and with a gleeful laugh looked up at their catch. The girls emitted loud cries of anguish, they had heard the story and they knew what was coming. The dolphins, ignorant to the sad mood, winked at each other, grabbed the girls and jumped back into the mighty river. The girls were gone, forever.

Dolphins can be evil

The sun shone down on the river intensely, the water glimmering under its powerful rays. Insect flew around peacefully, frogs swam through the river, and fish played in the water happily. Far away, a couple of pink dolphins jumped up and down carelessly. One of them jumped up high and while in the air emitted a loud cry. The other dolphin imitated tem and both of them continued swimming. Suddenly, a wave began forming at the farthest end of the river. It grew and grew, and animals went into panic, all except the dolphins. Frogs jumped onto the trees, birds flew the other way, crickets chirped like crazy, and fish tried desperately to beat the wave. When it finally reached the two dolphins, they stood still and let the wave crash through their strong bodies. When it did, both of them fell into nothingness. They fell for about thirty seconds and then they reached the bottom of the river. However, this bottom of the river was not like any of the ones people usually imagine. There was a strip of seaweeds creating what looked like a street right under the two dolphins. To their sides there were tall formations of rock, with little wholes at regular intervals, through which some dolphins could be seen coming in and out. At some places, the rocks had starfish lined in symbols on top of or next to big wholes, and at these there where a lot of dolphins going in and out, some with jelly fish filled with fish. The dolphins nodded at each other, and then split, one moving straight and the other going to the left. The one with the strongest pink shade swam for about seven minutes before reaching a fork in the seaweed street, and then took the left street. At the far end there was a dead end, and some more rock with more starfish symbols on top of a big whole. The dolphin deftly maneuvered its way into the building, and kept on going onto a tree trunk desk. “Hello. I’m here to talk to the governor,” said the dolphin with a strong thick voice. “Oh yes one second please, Slate” said the dolphin behind the desk picking up a shell and putting it up to her ear. After some time of aha-ing and nodding she told him to go in. Slate swam steadily through a corridor with many doors, until he reached a big one at the far right. He banged the door with his long nose, and went inside. “Hello sir,” greeted Slate politely. “How do you do?” “Oh just fine Slate. What do you have for me?”Answered the stern dolphin. “Well sir, we found out, with Rufus, that there is a party to celebrate a big birthday tonight in the Ticuno community of Santa Rita. I was thinking about going there tonight and capture one girl, and bring her straight here. Then we can put her in the human jail.” “Slate, you are just brilliant. Do so.” With that he turned back to some large leaves filled with symbols. “Thank you sir, I will see you tonight.” Slate said, and then he left through the door and back out to the street. He made a couple of turns and then reached a small whole. When he went in he saw Rufus sitting on the couch reading some leaves. “Hey we have to go, our job is on” He said with a tug on Rufus’ fin. “Oh yeah, lets go” Rufus answered, a wide grin spreading across his face. They both moved toward a closet where they extracted two drench coats and two hats. They slipped the coats on, fixing them so the bump on their back would not be seen and then put the hat on, covering the breathing whole. Then, they walked to another closet, which they opened eagerly. Inside there was nothing, just a big empty space that continued rising. Rufus got in and began swimming up, and Slate followed suit happily. On the surface of the river, the sun was setting, a magical pink haze hung over the river. In the distance music and shouting could be heard. The two dolphins erupted into the surface disturbing the calm water, and began laughing with their high cries, following the sound. They reached a place in the land that seemed to be lit up, and then they came out of the water and expertly fixed their disguises. “Lets meet right here in thirty minutes, each with a girl,” commanded Slate, his voice impatient. “All right,” replied Rufus, the eagerness sounding in his voice too. Both walked through some trees and reached a big clearing that was lit up by torches. In the center four people were shouting happily and playing music, while around them the rest of the people danced or talked to each other. Each dolphin went its own way, and began observing every girl that passed by. After about thirty minutes, Slate went close to a girl who could not have been older than twenty, her dark skin and green eyes shining under the night and the fire. He inched his way until he was standing behind her and began pushing her away from the crowd. Startled she looked back, and saw a man with a hat, so she decided to let herself be taken away. At the other end of the party, Rufus was doing the same, the girl with the violet eyes and pale skin delighted at having a suitor. They both met newt to the river, and with a gleeful laugh looked up at their catch. The girls emitted loud cries of anguish, they had heard the story and they knew what was coming. The dolphins, ignorant to the sad mood, winked at each other, grabbed the girls and jumped back into the mighty river. The girls were gone, forever.

This is a story based on an Amazon mth...enjoy!

Today's the time

This is the age of technology
The time where anything we want can be done
We have computers, simulators, robots
Company is sometimes over rated
Entertainment is produced by things
People are together no matter the distance
We can cross the globe in less than a day
The imagined future is a breath away
If only
Oh, that sad if only
We have it all, but will have it no more
The time is now a limit
A limit that can not be forced
Our own ambitions have brought us here
The destruction of all also just a breath away

Babysitting's a life

Amanda struggled to keep her balance on her new 5 inch Jimmy Choos while Beverly hung on to her right leg and Samantha clung to her right arm.
“Guys come on, please…” Amanda begged the little girls as she crashed against a wall, “Sam, Bev, let go of me! Girls that’s enough, please stop it…get off!!! Arghh!” She shook them off herself with difficulty, and as soon as they were not grabbing her, she took each of them in one hand and put on a straight face. “Girls, what am I going to do with you two? I said stop like a thousand times and I’m sure you heard me, why don’t you listen to me? I am not leaving yet. Of course not,” her face went from one blond girl to the other, and her voice softened a little, “I’m waiting for your mom to get here, but I got ready earlier to be prepared when she gets here.”
“But mommy said you couldn’t eave us alone Anda,” Beverly stuttered as her tear stained cheeks grew redder, calling Amanda the name she and her sister called their baby sitter because they couldn’t pronounce her name.
“Yes, she said that,” sniffed an identical little girl.
“I’m not…” Amanda explained she saw the girls would not understand so she decided to change the subject ad forget the little temper tantrum. “How about we go to the TV room and watch some TV, yeah?”
The girls squealed with delight at the proposal, and they wiggled away happily. Amanda sighed, sometimes being a nanny was a lot harder than most people thought. She strutted through the ample hallways, past several art pieces, and into a large room filled to the brim with movies, puppets, toys, and a huge flat screen TV in the end, where the twins were already singing along to one of their many favorite shows. Amanda smiled to herself, the games room was one of her favorite spots in the large 5th avenue apartment. It reminded her of the games room she and her sister had had, a much smaller one of course, and the girls entertained themselves so she had time to do her own thing. She sat in the purple loveseat and extracted her copy of Angels and Demons out of the small Prada purse slung at her shoulder, laying the bag on the neat white carpet.
One hundred and fifty pages and three TV shows later the large wooden door was lamed, and a rhythmic click-clack rang trough the apartment. Amanda sighed with annoyance as she read the big Mickey Mouse clock on the wall, 8:35. Mrs. Henderson had promised her that today she would be home at 7:00. She usually got out at 7:30 every day, but Amanda had asked to leave at seven that night, and her boss had promised her she would be there early to take care of the kids. An hour and a half later she had walked in, and Amanda was already too late to get to the party she was planning on going too.
“Hello!” cooed Mrs. Henderson as she walked into the room. Her 5 foot ten, slim frame towered high above the girls as they jumped up and down to greet her.
“Mommy, mommy, mommy, look what I can do….look at me mommy, I can do it too” the girls danced around her showing of moves they had learned at school that day or waving their arms around for attention. It was always like that every time they saw her. She was a New York society hostess and was seldom home. When she was she was locked in her bedroom watching TV, gossiping over the phone, or in her amazingly big closet picking her outfit for that nights benefit. When she was with the girls her face was in a constant pout, but the girls barely noticed. They loved their mom, and thus they tried to impress her, get her attention, and win her affection.
“Oh darling,” the white blond woman cried as she waved her arms around to calm her daughters down. “I am so so sorry,” she proclaimed with a very fake voice. “I got stuck at that meeting and then there was a lot of traffic coming here. Honestly, I feel so bad.” Yeah right, thought Amanda to herself. You wok as an interior designer, how late could a meeting run, the only thing you do id buy expensive furniture for your friend’s apartments. “Oh don’t worry about it,” Amanda replied with a sweet tone, her mind reeling on ways to get to the party quickly, and filing with hypocrisy as she contemplated hoe much she hated her boss. “It’s okay, really,” It wasn’t okay at all, Amanda was very mad, but she had to keep her job.
“Well go then, I don’t want to keep you any longer, have a nice night, see you tomorrow.” Mrs. Henderson waved to her and turned to her kids, who had now returned to the TV and were dancing along to some theme song.
“Ok, bye,” Amanda said as she backed out the glass doors and into the large hallway. She strutted to the door, got on the elevator, went down 12 floors, and excited the elegant lobby into the chilly New York night breeze.

Another story

I shook my head no, and wined my way through the thick crowd that was moving to the beat of the loud techno music. Why was it so hard for people to understand that I do not drink? Not like I have a problem with people who do, just that I don’t like to. The club smelled of alcohol and sweat, and the flashing lights were driving me crazy. My head was turning and I was getting a little too dizzy, so I headed for the terrace. As the fresh air punctured my lungs and the street noises broke the thumping of my ears, I felt brought back to reality. I could feel my cheeks flushing with the cold night air, and my blown out hair was flying in all directions. That one moment, I remember, was perfect. The loud music could not be heard, I was breathing the not so clean metropolitan air I was so used to, and after all I might just be able to get through the rest of the night. However, this one moment of tranquility was shattered. A slim red head in a tight black tube top and an unbelievably short skirt tumbled on to me, spilling her blue cocktail all over my new brown wrap dress. Her thin stiletto heels dug into my ballet flat clad foot, and I stumbled to the sticky floor. Just my luck, I thought bitterly to myself as the clumsy girl, who had somehow remained on her feet produced a drunken “Oops” giggled and scrambled a meter away, where a tall boy stood staring.
“Come on,” the girl purred, grabbing him by the bottom of his black T-Shirt. The guy stared at me for a couple more seconds, his eyes flashing as he decided if to help me up or not, until the girl purred something inaudible and he soberly followed her inside. I looked around and was glad to see that there was no one else around, what had these two been up to? But in a matter of seconds the gladness was overcome by anger. How dare she crash into me, spill her radioactive drink all over me, and leave me in the floor without offering as much as a word of comfort or excuse. Unless of course the delusional and intended-sexy oops counted, which it most definitely did not. The anger grew until I was also mad at the guy for standing there staring at me with plain surprise in his eyes, as if he did not know that bimbo of his was an idiot, and then for letting her pull him away by the hem of shirt without offering help. I stood up and stared down at the stained new dress. It was soaked through and all blue like. The night was getting colder and now that I was wet and sticky the wind was freezing me. I pulled up my light brown hair into a messy, sticky, smelly ponytail and then walked inside. The air was stale and smoky; even though there was a lot of lights flashing I couldn’t see a thing. What on earth am I doing here, I evaluated the scene and whipped out my cell phone dialing my cousin’s number and pushing the phone to my ear.
“Hello,” A loud voice hollered followed by a hiccup.
“Tess, I’m gonna go home okay?” I practically shouted into the small black flip phone.
“Oh nooo,” my cousin whined with a distracted voice. A mussed giggle and a strangled stop were heard, and then she spoke into the phone again. “Where are you, I’m up on the second level.” I looked up and saw her slim figure, all wrapped up in a boy whom I did not recognize.
“I see you, who’s the guy?” I questioned as I moved to the front dor of the club.
A hiccup, then, “I’m not sure, but he’s cuute!”
“I see,” I commented out loud while a one word description of her rolled around in my brain. “Well I’m glad you’re having a good time but I am hating it here, just as I predicted. Don’t even say anything because I am not going to listen. I’m calling a cab and going home, so I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” As I looked up I could see that she was now kissing the guy full on, the phone still pressed against her ear. As no answer came from the other end and I knew it didn’t matter anymore, si I just closed the phone and stuffed back in my bag. I walked outside, pretending to not notice the ogling of the bouncers as my soaked self emerged from the club and hailed a cab, or the bemused glance the doorman gave me when I walked into the elegant lobby of my building all wet, and covered in blue liquid, or the pout my Golden Retriever gave me when I petted her in the middle of the night with my sticky hands. I’ll put this dress in the washing machine to save it, take a long hot shower, pamper my hair and skin, and then call it a day, I planned silently as I peeled off the wrap dress and put on my long fine bathrobe.

Revised pieces for magazine

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far far away, there lived a beautiful princess. She was twenty years old, and in search of a husband, more for her parents’ sake than her own. The problem was she never had time to search for real. Every day she went out and helped the kingdom. She slain dragons, she caught vandals, she would save princes that needed saving, and then she would return home, tired and hungry to find her parents nagging her about the husband search. She liked her life, it was normal, calm, and she thought a husband would just unbalance it. However, one day her grandmother came, and the next day her grandfather, and the day after that her aunt, and one by one each family member came from all around to tell her that she needed a husband. There was nothing to do about it, she needed one fast.
So on a sunny Friday afternoon, the princess told her parents she was leaving and would not be coming back until she found the man of her life. Her mother hugged her and told her that it was the right thing to do, while her father rushed in the house and packed a dragon skin bag with some food and some clean clothes. After saying goodbye, the princess went outside, got on her white stallion, and rode like the wind. She traveled for days, meeting many princes, most of which she saved. None, nevertheless, seemed right for her. She killed two dragons, took three robbers to the king’s men, saved five damsels in distress (all of whom were disappointed that their savior had been a princess and not the blue blood prince they had expected), and covered almost every corner of the kingdom. One day she reached an abandoned castle. It was dirty, the windows shattered, the flag that stood at the entrance old and torn. As she circled it in her white steed she saw that in one small window, all the way up, there was a little shimmering light dancing with the wind. As brave as she was, she tied her horse to a tree and walked inside. Creeping down the spider web covered hallways she felt a pang of guilt run through her as she thought about the promise she had made to her parents. She was sure this would be another superficial prince that needed saving.
Halfway up the last stairway a troll jumped down at her and growled angrily. She knew trolls were not the brightest creatures, so she extracted the last piece of bread from her bag, and with a powerful twist of her wrist the slice flew far away. Just as she had expected the clumsy beast ran off after it, and she went on until she reached a little wooden door, which she opened gingerly. Inside there was a long bed and a candle on the night table. A handsome young man lay on it sleeping peacefully. The princess walked over to him and jostled him softly, but he did not shift. She repeated this with more strength. The prince did not stir. The princess bent her head planting a soft kiss on his thin lips. His eyes fluttered open. Sitting up, they locked eyes and smiled shyly at each other. After a long time of staring, she backed away and he thanked her earnestly. It was undeniable; it was love at first sight. They walked out of the palace and both climbed on the stallion that took them to her parents. They received the news happily, and arranged the wedding. The prince and the princess got married, and lived happily ever after.

I hope I could be an orchid.
Only seeing the world once a year
And the rest of the year knowing that I would be safe inside my house.
Knowing that nothing could happen.
Knowing that someone is taking care of me in every single way
And when I come out people look at me with pride in their eyes
Amazed with my beauty.
Looking at me as if I was the last diamond in the world,
Or the biggest emerald that has ever existed.
People look at me admiring the soft white petalsThe violet purple pollen
Even amazed with my ashen green leafs,
Everyone only noticing my bright side.
Then I go back into my houseKnowing people are waiting for me to come out again.
If only I could be an orchid.

Story (part 6)

Three hours later Olivia woke up with a sigh. It was one of those moments when you want to keep on dreaming, but your body wakes up out of the blue in the worst moment. What was that all about, Olivia wondered to herself as she rested her head back on the soft white carpet. Her mind went back to the dream she was having just a moment before- She had been walking alone through the beautifully lit lawn of the White House with a long black evening gown, the soft music of a ball in the background. Suddenly a figure appeared walking towards her absentmindedly. As she came closer she could see it was Sam, dressed in a tux looking perfect with his tan skin and shiny brown hair expertly in place. A twig snapped under her weight, and Sam looked up from the leveled grass. They greeted and exchanged excuses for being outside, and after a while they had finally accepted that they were bored in there with the socialites and important people. They had walked and talked in perfect synch, covering many subjects and having several silences that were far from awkward, just comprehending. They reached a bench and sat down, turning to face each other. Olivia remembered she had racked her head for topics to discuss, and she could tell by the look of desperateness in Sam’s eyes that he was too. Abruptly they both started laughing, her bright green eyes and his deep chocolate brown ones glimmering in the cold night. She could feel it, words were not needed, the fact that they were both there was enough. She blinked, a long, slow blink, and when she opened her eyes again Sam’s face was inching toward hers in a way that made Olivia’s insides churn. And she had woken up. Please come again, Olivia found herself wishing, I need to know what it feels like. What? I want to know what it feels like? Why, I don’t even like him…Do I? Oh my I need to stop thinking. But she couldn’t stop. Her mind raced with thoughts of Evan, the guy she thought she had a crush on and of Sam her old childhood friend, and on an d on it went until Katlin walked in stopping her confused mind.
“Thank you so much,” Olivia breathed with relieve as soon as Katlin walked in the room.
“You‘re welcome, but for what,” her shadow questioned her with curiosity.
“You know, for everything this morning,” she improvised.
Katlin smiled with suspicion and glances at Olivia’s blushing cheeks. “Anyway,” she continued, “I just came back to tell you that your mom want you to meet her for lunch in the dining room right now to discuss some things for tonight, and that after that you have to start getting ready for the gala. And don’t roll your eyes, you know it is very important and it is a big deal to her.”
“Okay,” Olivia replied with an uncanny tone. Katlin looked at her with surprise expecting to hear protest but not getting any. Olivia stood up and went down to the kitchen her mind now moving to the subject of what she would do tonight in the white house gala.
Two hours, seven glasses of water, and a headache later Olivia dragged her thin body up the stairs and into her room, where she went to her desk and plopped down on her blue swivel chair. She quickly opened up Google and typed up “meaning of dreams”. She opened the first site and looked for kissing, and read the meaning with curiousness. “Affection. Joy. Coming success. Wish to be close to someone.” Not wanting to believe it she looked in another web page. This one said “If you are kissing a close friend, then it represents your respect and adoration for your friend. You are seeking some intimate closeness that is lacking in some waking relationship. It may or may not signify a romantic interest for him or her. If the dream ends just about you are about to kiss someone, indicates that you are unsure of how he or she really feels about you. You are looking for some sort of relationship with this person but you are not sure about how to go about achieving it.” I don’t like him like him, he’s been my friend forever one more webpage. The alarm in her inner voice surprised Olivia, liking Sam would not be that weird, maybe it was just physical. He was a very handsome and cute boy. “Kissing a close friend means that there is some undefined tension between you. Competitiveness with him or her signifies that there is chemistry, and quarrels that there is physical tension.” Olivia scratched her head and sighed confused with everything. After a while of staring into space thinking about the dream, she decided to ignore it, after all it was just an image formed by her unconscious.

My life during the famine

This is a poem that is told from two points of view about the same situation. It is about the Irish potato famine, and the point of view of the daughter of a landlord and a tenant peasant:

I wake up in the morning and take a hot bath, eat breakfast, and leave for school.
I wake up in the morning and wash my face, eat a piece of bread, and leave for the fields.

I get to school where I hand in my homework.
I get to the field where my father tells me what the work for the day is.

I am taught by official teachers about many subjects.
I am taught by my tiered mother how to plant carrot seeds.

I have a recess where I discuss my latest purchases with my friends.
I wipe the sweat from my forehead, wishing desperately for a break.

I play with my hair ribbons as the teacher speaks.
I play with a rotten potato before tossing it on the gigantic bad crop pile.

I have a big sandwich for lunch and a piece of chocolate cake for dessert.
I get another piece of bread for lunch and a handful of oats for lunch at the fields.

I get home at five and play with my sister and then do some homework.
I get home at seven and tell my sister a story to get her to stop crying because she is hungry.

I eat a fancy dinner with many friends of my parents.
We share a plate of beans and a couple of carrots for dinner at the rackety table.

I read a chapter of my new book and fall asleep in my fluffy bed, with a chimney on.
I stare up at the cracked ceiling and shiver as the cold penetrates my sore body until I fall asleep.

I wake up the next day, and feel happy because it is Saturday and I don’t have school.
I wake up the next day and feel bad because it’s Saturday and now we have to work today too.

I play and read all day, and enjoy the meals with my whole family.
I pull weeds out all day, and try not to think about the muffled noises my stomach makes all day.

I watch happily as my mom cradles her newborn in her arms.
I cry sadly as my mom cradles my little dead brother in her arms.

Life is very good right now.
Life is miserable right now.

I wish...

I wish things were different, I really do. But they are not. There is nothing I can do about that. Every day I wake up at 6 and I hear the loud hum of the vacuum cleaner, my mom talking on the phone,my dad turning the morning paper, and the hose outside. Everything runs at full speed and the amount of things done in one day at my house is unbelievable. I wish we could be a united family. The three of us together, having fun. Not my mom talking to her friends about a party, my dad reading the newspaper and me pretending to be okay with it all. Somehow, they don’t notice that I’m not. It is just like if they didn’t know me, but how can I expect them to if we are never together. We used to be of course, until I was 10 and left for the boarding school in Switzerland. But now, six years after that, two after I came back home, they are like strangers. Not only to me. To themselves too. Constantly, I ask myself what I can do to improve the current family situation. Nothing comes to mind however. I have tried to talk to them about it. They don’t get it. Mom says I’m just paranoid, and that it is all because of adolescence. Dad says that my mind is running loose because of TV. They probably know it, but they ignore nonetheless because they don’t want to face it. They think that it will all be okay, that one day when we need to we will reunite. The time that we have been apart will not matter, they think. Today I wake up sadder than ever. It is my birthday. I just hope they will remember, maybe even do something special. The worst part is I don’t even know how it got like this. It was all perfect, maybe that was the problem. Nothing can be right for too long. I went off to school; my parents and I talked every night before that. Now, once a week is the maximum, and not once more. My birthday wish, for us to become friends again. For them to be together all the time, to tell each other everything. For me to know what they are thinking just by looking at their faces, and for them to do the same. Will it ever happen? I ask myself silently as I get dressed. I don’t know, but I hope so. I think I will talk to them again, tell them that every minute that we drift farther apart it makes it harder for us to come back together. I will try my best to make them understand. It is important. It is all I can think about right now, as I hear the gardener fix the lawn, the maid clean the house, my mom on the phone, the newspaper swooshing as my dad turns the page, and my own quiet sobs. I wish it gets better, I really do.

A little mental monolouge I wrote on a wave of feeling. Not really my style, but I liked it. Enjoy.

Once upon a time...

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far far away, there lived a beautiful princess. She was 20 years old, and in search of a husband, more for the sake of her parents than her own. The problem was she never had time to search for real. Every day she went out and helped the kingdom. She slayed dragons, she caught vandals, she would save princess that needed saving, and then she would return home, tired and hungry to find her parents nagging her about the husband search. She liked her life, it was normal, calm, and she thought a husband would just unbalance it. However, one day her grandmother came, and the next her grandfather, and the next her aunt, and one by one each family member came from all around to tell her that she needed a husband. There was nothing to do about it, she needed one fast. So on a sunny Friday afternoon, the princess told their parents she was leaving and would not be coming back until she found the man of her life. Her mother hugged her and told her that it was the right thing to do while her father rushed in the house and packed a dragon skin bag with some food and some clean clothes. After saying goodbye, the princess went outside, got on her white stallion, and rode like the wind. She traveled for days, meeting many princes, most of which she saved. None, nevertheless, seemed right for her. She killed two dragons, took three robbers to the king’s men, saved five damsels in distress (all of whom were disappointed that their savior had been a princess and not the blue blood prince they expected), and covered almost every corner of her fair kingdom. One day she reached an abandoned castle. It was dirty, the windows were shattered, and the flag that stood at the entrance was old and torn. As she circled it in her white steed she saw that in one small window all the way up there was a little shimmering light dancing with the wind. As brave as she was, she tied her horse to a tree and walked inside. Creeping down the spider web covered hallways she felt a pang of guilt run through her as she thought about the promise she had made to her parents. Halfway up the last stairway a troll jumped down at her and growled angrily. She knew trolls were not the brightest creatures, so she extracted her last piece of bread from her bag, and with a powerful twist of her wrist the slice flew far away. Just as she expected the clumsy beast ran off after it and she continued until she reached a little wood door, which she opened gingerly. Inside there was a long bed and a candle on the night table. A handsome young man laid on it sleeping peacefully. The princess walked over to him and shoved him softly. When nothing happened she repeated this with more strength. The prince did not stir. The princess bent her head and gave him a soft kiss, and the prince opened his eyes. She backed away and he thanked her earnestly. It was undeniable, it was love at first sight. They walked out of the palace and both climbed on the stallion that took them to her parents. They received the news happily, and arranged the wedding. The prince and the princess got married, and lived happily ever after.

Article on chariot race in ancient rome

Yesterday, one of the most astounding chariot races ever was witnessed by around 250,000 people in the Circus Maximums. This enormous building, 600 meters long and 200 meters wide, which is the host of the popular chariot races, was so full not even a needle could have fit inside it. Today the four teams (red, white, blue, and green) presented their best racers for this season’s final race. The crowd was going wild as the presenter, renown tragedy actor Anthony Apollonus, announced each team’s 3 chariots and their corresponding racers. Between these 12 talented racers were Gaius Apuleis for the red, Tulius Capano for the white, Marcius Brunos for the blue, and Octavius Vonetis for the greens. You could see the crowd dividing into color sections, everybody shifting around to get to the place that matched their team color, and thus their clothing shade.
The race started punctually at 3:30, when the judges dropped the handkerchief. Immediately, the rope that blocked the entrance of the 12 boxes that contained the 12 chariots fell. Out went the 12 chariots pulled each by 2 horses, the standard number of horses in important races. In a matter of seconds, the green team was in the lead with Octavius Vonetis. The green crowd went up like crazy, and a deafening roar erupted from the audience. Vonetis whipped his horses, and they sped up. Directly behind him, Marcius Brunos and Gaius Apuleis were struggling to pass him. Gaius Apuleis lashed his horses, and they picked up the speed, passing Vonetis. Instantly another part of the arena rose up and started hollering. Some of the green crowd started shouting foul words, and Apollonus directed the audience to calm down. Suddenly Apuleis’s chariot stopped and Marcius Brunos who was right behind him took the lead, causing the blue multitude to start jumping around. He was the first to complete the first lap, followed by the rest. Without warning, Tulius Capano sped up drastically right after crossing the starting point and completing the first lap. He became the first in line, and the otherwise quiet white swarm proved that they were not as shy as they had seemed. Capano remained showing the way for the next two laps. Then, a blue contestant named Pompius Rameius took the lead. Soon, however, he was outdone by Vonetis. He had an eager face, which was replaced by a face full of anger when Brunos came up to his side. Vonetis, full of rage, directed a nasty gesture towards Brunos, who’s answer to this was bumping the greens chariot and making it slow down. The blue mass started yelling, laughing, and making the same gestures at the green multitude, which responded in the same way. The audience became a big mess of shouting people and rude gestures, but then came the voice of the actor announcing that there were only 2 laps left and the attention turned back to the race. At that moment Apuleis was ahead of the concentration of chariots by abut four feet. At the end of this thick throng was the white racer Capano. He was going slower than he had at any time in the race, and he was being left behind. The white crowd exploded with shouts and scolding for their best racer, who pretended not to hear the upheaval coming from the tiers of seats. The red crowd began to laugh and point at the whites, and the blue and green swarms took no time to follow suite. Apollonus announced with eagerness that only one lap was left, and this made all of the crowd rise up and engage fully on the race. All of the chariots were struggling to increase their pace, but the horses were tiered after running six laps, and so the general tempo was decreasing. When about 300 meters were missing to the finish line, Capano pounded his whip against his horses, who furiously sped up, and started leaving others behind. As if by magic, a great gasp of fear arose from the arena, followed by a deafening howl and a noisy but coordinated pattern of claps coming from the white mob.
Capano crossed the finish line, and the whites went crazy. They launched a cheer Capano, Capano… In second place came Brunos, followed by Vonetis, and Apuleis came in fourth. Capano climbed down from the chariot with a wide smile spread across his face. He waved and waved and the white crowd hollered and waved back. Then Apollonus presented the award ceremony and handed the money and the cup to Capano, who received it fervently.
This season was one of the most enthusiastic chariot racing seasons of all times. We witnessed some of the most skilled racers, and the Circus Maximus made more profit than ever. It is clear that this sport is becoming a bigger attraction by the minute, and that it is what the Roman people like. The next chariot racing season will be coming soon! Stay tuned for more chariot races!!!!!!

If I could be an orchid

I hope I could be an orchid.
Only seeing the world once a year
And the rest of the year knowing that I would be safe inside my house.
Knowing that nothing could happen.
Knowing that someone is taking care of me in every single way
And when I come out people look at me with pride in their eyes
Amazed with my beauty.
Looking at me as if I was the last diamond in the world,
Or the biggest emerald that has ever existed.
People look at me admiring the soft white petals
The violet purple pollen
Even amazed with my pallid green leafs
Everyone only noticing my bright side.
Then I go back into my house
Knowing people are waiting for me to come out again.
If only I could be an orchid.