Creative Writing: Alabama Roadtrip

The meeting was starting. The leader, an older woman with green eyes who looked familiar somehow, stood at a little black podium in between the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions posters, the neon AA triangle symbol glowing powder-blue, hopeful, behind her.

Sunshine was pouring out from in between the buildings, casting shadows all around Ponyboy and the gang as they walked to Pony’s school. They were taking their time walking down the streets and for the first time they all were really seeing what was all around them. Memories were surfacing in their minds showing them what it all meant to them. With every step they took on the sidewalk they remembered a different memory as if they were walking down memory lane. Ponyboy didn’t think it was possible for him to be walking down this street for the last time as a high school student, but he had gone through the years with great grades that earned him many scholarships.

I comfortably drive my car into the desolate street, Perusing the deserted buildings, Smashes windows and rusted For Sale signs. The car locked up like Fort Knox. I observe the street for trouble. Two young boys look at me from afar as if I'm an alien. Do I stand out that much same greasy hair, expensive clothes, a smart car I suppose I am out of my comfort zone? “Mister, you don’t belong here” his hand gripped his switch. “Pony.... Ponyboy Curtis” I stammer “I live here or at least I did, I'm here to see two-bit’ The Boys turn around “geez his old now” the boy's chirp. The boys stroll away in awe that they saw the great Ponyboy.

"Wake up, partners," the trail boss, James called. I sleepily looked up , shivered, and saw I was the only one not up. "Here," James said, giving me the horses' bridles and saddles. "Take these and get the horses ready. We have a long day today." I groaned in reply and set up the horses for the day's long drag. I was the horse wrangler and this was my everyday job but I still couldn't get use to the idea of waking up before the sun and working. We drove the cattle into open plains against the winter's cold wrath.

Jefferson City, TN- The Jefferson County Patriots, comeback from eleven-points down in the third set to sweep the South Doyle Cherokees 25-21, 28-26, 25-23, on Thursday night at the Patriot Academy.

The driver, Cecilia Blair, of vehicle 1 was traveling north through the intersection of N. State St. and Flint St. when she had a collision with vehicle 2. The driver, Jacqueline Muir, of vehicle 2 was heading west on Flint St. when she was struck by vehicle 1.

Welcome to Sandersville, Georgia. A quaint, little town nestled in Washington County with a population of under 6,000. Seated happily in the Bible Belt, there are more churches than gas stations in the Southern city. We pass the only gas station for miles on the corner of the main street as my family heads to my Aunt’s house. The drive from Atlanta to Sandersville was slower than molasses running up hill—at least according to my mother. Sara Armour is the epitome of the southern belle. A well-spoken lady, she was born in Atlanta, but raised in Milledgeville, GA following her parents’ divorce. With bright red lipstick and a blonde bob, she looks like the carbon copy of her older sisters in that musty kitchen

Thanks again for your help! That's wonderful to hear! I'm actually back in Dunellen working with my father and doing some subbing here and there. I would be interested in providing information and help on the Valley Forge Encampment, however, I do not have many materials or props about the park or the encampment. So, if you don't think it would be in your best interest in coming into the school, I wouldn't mind doing something through Skype or email. Sincerely -Russell Brindley.

A tall robust boy with dark hair and yellow eyes entered Ellingburg middle school school at exactly 7:55 on september the 18th, it was the second day of school. His big build is easy to locate in the rush of teens. There is a tap on his elbow he looks sideways, at a medium sized boy, something changes in his eyes. Jack is short compared to Sebastian. Jack is a skinny boy with long legs, his dark hair hanging loosely over his dark brown eyes. A loud bell rang and Jack grabbed Sebastian's arm. Sebastian froze for a second and then ran. Sebastian knows Jack just thinks of him as a friend, but it is different for him, he does not know if Jack knows.

Saturday night in Muncie there was definitely only one place to be. It was a little hole in the wall bar named Valhalla. This bar is amazing. It's small but has a wicked light and sound system that puts bigger clubs to shame. And the place was definitely filled up with others like myself trying to get a taste of the Hoosier Heavy that is the Muncie metal scene.

I'm going to Lucky Eagle this morning, but wanted to send you a note before I head out to let you know that Jackie and I will not be on next Monday's casino bus to Red Wind. We're going to Pendleton with a group of gals to play golf and gamble. We're leaving Sunday and returning on Tuesday.

On the first day of riding a new bus, I was lonely. I had just moved to a new house back in second grade so I had a new bus. That meant new friends. I knew nobody at all. I sat sadly near the back of the bus. Then at Ranchero Road two girls that seemingly had kindness in there eyes got on the bus and looked for a seat. Then the one who was a dirty blonde said “What about that seat?” She pointed to my seat.

Cars honk repeatedly and buzz impatiently at the red stop light, waiting to turn green and unhappy for the long wait. Thousands upon thousands of banks across the world handle the currency of America, the green dollars of the USA. It is also the sign of mother nature - from trees, to flowers, to plants. I have always encountered a sensation of calmness and peace from the soothing and natural color, peppermint leaf.

Delicious. I thought. The saltiness still lingered in my mouth. I went outside to the living room to watch the news. On the news it said “Hello this is Ava Rutter reporting live in South Side of Mississippi, where we are watching our world fall apart with the things that we do in the bathroom. And it is big and brown and sometimes different colors if you have Diarrhea.” But usually I get extremely tired of watching the news.

“Thank you Paxton,” exclaimed the elderly woman Mrs.Hanson. It was a routine Saturday morning and Paxton the paper boy was running his usual route. Paxton has been running this route for 2 years now. Ever since his parents passed it’s been the one thing he looks forward to every weekend. Pax doesn’t usually have much to look forward to because all he does in life is go to high school and sit around home with his godparents. He wasn't a studly boy, small, skinny, with jet black hair and bright blue eyes. His route, as always, ended with Mr.Shaun’s small home at the end of Huckle Road. Paxton always has had to walk up and deliver Mr.S’s paper because he was put in a wheelchair from a car accident a few years back. He noticed that the door was wide open, so he walked right through and felt a strong shove of cool air (personification). There was no Mr.Shaun, but there was a rather strange machine right there in the entry way. It was intriguing and Paxton walked up to it to give it a look. He felt his left leg press up against the machine and heard a clicking sound. He realized he had pushed a small lever and before he knew it, everything was black.