Sta.sh
| children's story |
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From the eyes of my fear.From the eyes of my fear. by ~lionne6980
"Hello" I whisper. "Hello friend." I say again slightly louder then before. "Hello friend or friend that could
be!" I yell hoping to be seen. I know that we speak defferently, but maybe if I try slower and louder
something might break through. "H e l l o!" I shout. "Can you hear me?" I ask knowing there will be no reply.
My heart slows, my body droops, my eyes glaze over. I am alone. I am hanging on by a thread. Someone sees me.
"Hello, can you hear me?" They're coming closer. My heart is racing! "Hello!" I shout "Hello friend or friend
that could be." They turned away. "Am I ugly? Am I scary? Am I to small to be a friend?" Same as
The Mail BoxThe Mail Box by ~lionne6980
The mail box
It was a neighbor hood like any other, with small simple yards, quant looking houses, and a mail box in every yard close to the side walks. And just like a regular, ordinary neighbor hood, people every morning got up and walked out to their cars, and left for work. Including an older looking man, who was always the last one to leave. As he walked out of his house, down the front yard to get to his car, a pair of squinting eyes opened from an old worn down looking mail box in his yard. Watching him get into his car and leave, and as soon as the car was far down the road and out of sight, the old mail box shouted (where the sl
| children's story |
