Creative Writing: Boyden Lane

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.

The rain kept on hitting the top of my car as I drove down the old road, like how a woodpecker pecks holes into trees looking for bugs. The town of Tahlequah had really changed since I saw it last about 40 years ago. There were paved roads now and a bigger school. The small shops I remembered were now big Sears and Target stores. Busy people walked on sidewalks trying not to get rained on, and cars drove on, with so many miles to go. As I got farther out and the buildings started to trickle out into countryside, I noticed a new sound that rose above all the rest.

Bailey knew that teasing Calahan the way that she was would send him over the edge. Teasing was something that Bailey was a master at including when it came to making him want her. After all the fights and all the tension between them everything felt like it was back to the way it had been. Bailey had missed days likes this where they would both just tease each other and then fuck for hours. Pressing her lips to his she bit down on his lip harder than before tugging. “I'd disagree, but then that would be a lie. I've been bad. What are you going to do about it?” Bailey spoke linking her hand together with his as he did the same. Parting her lips she felt him press his cock against her rubbing her clit and up and down her pussy as she whimpered. Her body ached even more for him to be inside of her, for him to make her scream his name like he had done hours earlier.

The clearing was quiet, it seemed lifeless. The Salinas River still flowed merrily near the hillside. The water was still warm from the afternoon sun, and still reflected a green hue. On one side of the river, the smooth foothill slopes still curved up to the strong and rocky Gabilan Mountains, and the other side was still lined with trees. The willows and sycamore branches still swung gently in the wind, and the leaves still created a green light within the space. It was totally calm and peaceful… but something was wrong. The air seemed heavier, and the sun seemed dimmer. No animals stirred, and everything seemed to be aware of a deep sadness. Nothing moved save for a small group of men standing around an unmoving figure.

My name is Jeffrey I was born in Mississippi 1989,June 9 where I came from a trailer there.We spent most of our life there in Mississippi. We made kin friends kinda more that family than friends and had a couple of hilarious jests together I felt like I was gunna spend the rest of my life there but I guess not.My family got into some trouble gambling so me and my family was thinking to flee and go to Alabama.So we took a destination stay with Aunt Sheela for a a week or a month to see if we can find a way to get out of this trouble.

You could feel the riot before you could see it. There was something else in the crisp early morning New York air, a certain electricity. A certain static that could only have been brought about by the winds of change. Even at three am the city is usually alive, but in these early Saturday morning hours Christopher Street was more alive than usual. However, it wasn't the normal flamboyant energy it had come to been known for. It was an angry energy, one that's only capable of being created by an oppressed group fed up with the constant mistreatment they've too long endured.

Jake opened his pocket watch, tipping the crystal face toward the low flames of the campfire. Another hour before daylight and he’d pick up Duvall’s trail. The muscles in his jaw clenched, hate pulling at every part of him. He’d kill Duvall, and he’d do it with Texas’ silent blessing. No judge had pronounced a sentence, but Jake saw the outlaw pull the trigger—watched Harrison die.

The car suddenly stopped and jolted me from my sleep. Disoriented, I looked around and tried to make sense of where I was and what I was doing. Over to my left, I saw my sister doing the same. Tall, blue, connected houses surrounded us and we were parked in the middle of a pristine parking lot. Green, luscious lawns sat in front of those blue houses. A gigantic tree surrounded by beautiful multicolored flowers sat to the left of a dumpster and a wooden sign with white script on it. “The Pointe at Stoneview,” I read to myself.

ou can’t find Wendell C. Everly, Esq. in a phone book. He won’t show up in a Google Search, either. No, you’d only be able to find him if you were already looking for his employer. If you’re the type of person seeking his services, he’ll find you.

The swooshing of the waves lightly grabbing at the shore fills my ears as I stand on the stone stairs. After so many years they have started to crumble, the small pieces sticking to my bare, wet feet. Large rocks surround the stairs, their colors arranged from white to pink to gray. The sandbox, lined with dark brown planks of wood, mocks me as I remember burying my feet in the sand. Near the sandbox is a light brown picnic table, gum sticking to the bottom waiting for its next victim to touch it. The smell of fish and snails reeks, but I find myself inhaling as much as I can. At the other side of the lake is a thin, dark green line of trees, houses peeking out from behind them. To my left is the hidden path that curves and winds finally leading

“Anything that can help us find out who did this.” I said, examining the crime scene. I walked towards what used to be the glass case that held the crown, but was now a useless, shattered cube.

I Kaylin Otis, made it through the winter at valley forge. It was a harsh winter, most of us had a feeling we weren’t going to survive. A lot of our men have passed away because it was a little ice age. We didn’t have many supplies to support all of us. George washington our general tried and tried to distract us from the misery, but nothing really seemed to work. I tried writing back to my family, but my hands were purple and hard to move. Constantly shivering. I have never been so cold in my entire life. I remember praying several times a day, hoping i would get through this, and i will make it home to my family safely. I was so sad at a time like this, but Marquis De Lafayette keeping everyone’s spirits high. He was one of the richest

“What the hell do you mean he moved away 4 months ago?” I yelled at my mother and she shushed me. “Babe, it’s important to keep calm at this time during the pregnancy.” She said as she took me back inside. I didn’t care but I did care at the same time. This was my only child, it was a miracle I had even kept this child and not had a miscarriage. This baby kept me alive, and in return i kept her alive.

Addison acknowledged the spoken truth with a simple nod. “Fair enough, you did. I suppose we know what’s for supper tomorrow.”

As you leave your house, you turn around in the cul-de-sac and make a right turn out onto a residential street. You continue down this road and pass by many colorful homes and you can children playing in the front yards – there’s the park you used to always play at on the left! You reach a 4-way stop and you continue through it. You pass more houses and parks and then you go through a few curves which bring you to more apartments along the road. When you reach another stop sign next to the railroad tracks you can hear a train coming in the distance. You turn right and now have houses on your right and a roofing business on the left. You hear