Moonless Nights

See, not only did the woman have the same name as I did, but she also ordered the exact same books as I did in the same time period. So, now I'm thinking about the theater ticket, could this just be a coincidence? Here is the story... Peter, Manuel and I decided to go see a play as a cultural event for the class we were taking Saturday mornings. El Repertorio Español had "Amor en los tiempo de colera" a play by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Initially I was trying to buy all the tickets one charge to my card and Peter and Manuel would give me the money later on. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough. We all agreed to simply buy it individually. We were supposed to sit in the balcony; it's cheaper and you get a better view. After all the theater is pretty small, it doesn't matter where you sit you still have a good view. But let's get to the point. So, I arrived there earlier to pick up my ticket. I accidentally said I bought 3 tickets and then co...

This book was a random idea I had when I was just in middle school and early high school years. It's incomplete for now. But there is no doubt I'll come back to it in the near future.  “…I can’t wait until you meet him. He is perfect.” She went on to say. It was so Amy to just talk about herself. We were currently in her bedroom lying on the bed. I couldn’t believe she could possibly decorate her room in pink. The walls were of a light pink nicely decorated with curtains of a darker shade of pink. Her lamps, pillow sheets, and any other sort of the decoration were dark pink to match the curtains. Out of all the sisters she was definitely the girlish one. She was currently a model for my father’s designing company. “The boy is a sexy thing.” She bit on her lower lip. “Anyways, how is work? That’s all you do right?” “Hey! I happen to love my job.” I lied. “Oh and I hate your room by the way. It’s awful! How could you possibly think pink is the right color to decorate a roo...

Last Week In One Picture... By: SC Joseph

The Alchemist  Prologue The alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan had brought. Leafing through the pages, he found a story about Narcissus. The alchemist knew the legend of Narcissus, a youth who knelt daily beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus. But this was not how the author of the book ended the story. He said that when Narcissus died, the goddess of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears. "Why do you weep?" the goddess asked. "I weep for Narcissus," the lake replied. "Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus," they said, "for though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand." "But... was Narcis...

Hurtful Protection   Part One: “Returning to a place I once knew as home.” This story begins on a day I’ll never forget… “We are gathered here today to say goodbye to one of our role models in this town Mr. Frederick Hamilton…” Frederick Hamilton was my father. He had lived in Berry Town all his life taking care of everyone but himself. I never thought people would appreciate his hard work, but I guess I was wrong. The whole town had gathered at the cemetery to say goodbye. They had provided food and coffee and chairs so we could sit around in a small ceremony. “You’re okay sweetheart?” Aunt Vivian asked. “Yeah I’m okay.” I cracked a smile. The truth is that I was devastated. Here I was sitting in this old town, wearing a black dress I refused to wear on any other occasion, and saying goodbye to someone that meant so much to me. “Do you want some coffee?” “No, I’m okay.” I got up and walked to the other side where a few guys were working on his grave. “...

Podrá nublarse el sol eternamente; Podrá secarse en un instante el mar; Podrá romperse el eje de la tierra Como un débil cristal. ¡todo sucederá! Podrá la muerte Cubrirme con su fúnebre crespón; Pero jamás en mí podrá apagarse La llama de tu amor. Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer Empezando el mes conocido como el mes del amor con un poema romantico.