Just a reminder. Freewriting is when you just write. There is no set way to do it. This DOES NOT mean that my writing is free to be taken by others. I want to make that clear. Oh, what a tangled web we weave That was a Shakespeare tragedy Now it is your reality. All of the lies and cover ups Have buried you Gone are the comforts you had grown accustomed to Why did you push that boundary? Why did you cross that line? Did you really think "I can get by with it this time?" What happened to you? What kind of sick, twisted fantasy did you have? So many questions left hanging in the air. Do you even know yourself? Maybe you stopped caring, Maybe you felt alone. I hope that cheap thrill was worth it because now you are caught. You can't run away. You can't escape the stares. Worst of all, you can't escape yourself. I know you are probably replaying every scene, Wishing and hoping it's all a bad dream. Sadly, t
I watched as Granny hung each garment on the clothesline. The sun was shining so bright I had to squint my eyes. Papa's old flannel shirts flapped in the breeze beside Granny's flowered house coats. There was something magical about that clothesline to me. I was intrigued by the simpleness of it. No whirring of the dryer. The clothes became drier as the day wore on. The next day, Granny would take her brown clothes basket to gather the clothes. One by one, she slipped the clothes pins off. It was almost as if she had her own rhythm. I stopped at the sliding glass door, lost in my own thoughts. That old clothesline had been in the backyard for years. The rough hewn posts were sturdy and solid. They told their own story, marked by the pelting rain and other elements. I hurried inside as Granny came in. I grabbed a shirt and pressed it to my face. The smell of freshly cleaned clothes was intoxicating. Now, most of us use washing machines. I still remember that clothesline and am
We had just moved into our new house. The crickets were chirping as people were getting ready to relax for the night. "Wanna throw the baseball around with me, Madison?" my brother asked. He didn't have to ask me twice. I jumped up off the couch and headed outside. Eli was good about throwing it easy. He stood close to me, letting me catch the ball with ease. The muggy air was making me sweaty as I concentrated on catching the ball in his worn glove. We were talking about school when I forgot a ball was headed in my direction. "Madison, you were supposed to catch it!" Eli said as the ball rolled to a stop on the grass. I laughed as I tossed it back to him. He just had to understand that girls get distracted when they talk. Eli was a little frustrated. He wanted to play catch. I had ruined the game. Oh well, that's what little sisters are for, right? I felt bad, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw his trademark grin. That was our unspoken signal that every
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