English Short Story"How Peter Thatcher Came To Wear Dresses" By Benjamin G. Mills-TaylorEnglish Short Story
Heat was something most folks just came to deal with in the summertime in Utah. However most folks dealt with it by hiding indoors or under the shaded overhangs of front porches; sipping their iced tea through their pursed lips greedily but with a façade of reserve as not to offend any company that might be sharing that porch with them. Peter Thatcher hated iced tea, in his opinion it came in two flavors: too bitter and too sweet. He preferred to spend his summer days working out in the fields. Peter felt at home in the fields; surr
I Used To Know A GirlI used to know a girl A wonderful, beautiful girl The sun shown brighter when we smiled Than any other time of the year She laughed and I became champion No man could knock me from my illustrious, high horse I used to know a girl I used to love a girl Used to want nothing more than to See that smile Hear that laugh Now that smile mocks me The laughter rips my soul from my chest And stomps the life out of it Right in front of my tear-filled eyes I used to know a girl But she died And all I'm left with is youI Used To Know A Girl
Arizona MacabreThe brilliant Arizona sun took its time rising that morning, as if hesitant to light up the world beneath it. Warm August rays wormed their way over the oblong rock formations and sparse desert vegetation littered the otherwise lifeless landscape. Both the plants and giant pillars of stone resembled fingers, pointing in accusation at some pitiless God. Everything, from the smallest grain of soil to the gargantuan structures of rock, was red. So it wasn’t hard to spot the lone coyote that picked his way through the morning light. The small canine was lean and malnourished, as all prey had eluded him for the past three days. The poorArizona Macabre
Generic Depressingly True PoemEveryday Every single day I see you Passing in the halls like a normal person (Which you’re not) Or in your corner surrounded by all the other “demon children” (Somehow you gleam through the darkness) These chance glimpses The few and far between catchings of you in my vision This is what keeps me alive Of course, I want to kill myself because of it Why in the name of all things rational Can I not forget you? You invade my thoughts My dreams And yet I barely know you I have no chance with a girl as glorious as you Yet still I dGeneric Depressingly True Poem
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The Opening of Any Clam
Hurt
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