Creative Writing: Chipotle

Back in the main level of the factory, Wolf and Fox find Hawk lying on the ground, pale and unresponsive, his bulletproof vest next to him and the edges of a red stain showing around a wad of gauze. A soldier that Fox assumes is N-Unit's medic kneels next to him, along with Snake and Coyote. The three medics are talking frantically among themselves. The rest of N-Unit hovers nervously nearby; the rest of H-Unit is nowhere to be seen. Dust particles dance through the beams of sunlight from the holes where windows used to be, giving the whole scene a strangely dreamy air.

“You ain’t crazy that way. I mean--hell, I been surprised how sane you guys all are. As near as I can tell you’re not any crazier than the average asshole on the street-- (Kesey 65).”

You are actually able to drive in these places automatically, without us having to make any changes to your account. You just need to have DC driver's license. Upon checking your account, I can see that you have a Maryland Driver's License. Therefore, if you wish to drive at Washington, D.C., feel free to attach to this email your license at D.C.

CHARGE!!!, the crowd went wild as the song was playing in the stadium. As I got closer to the seats it got louder and louder I felt like I was at a monster truck show. Then I got to the seats I turned my head to look at the field and it look a lot more greener than on TV. The home team was practicing on the field ready to beat the Washington Nationals.

BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!  The slimy, pink puke squirted all over the house and started flooding the house. It was still squirting and it never stopped!

I dropped you a line while you were at the CTCA Centennial Purina Event so, how did everything go? I hope you and Helen had plenty of time to catch up and that your return home went well.

“ Yeah but you don't speak Spanish. It’s like we cant let in a white girl even if she speaks really good Spanish and we cant let you in because even though you are kind of Mexican you don't speak Spanish, you just wouldn't get it.”

I stare at the bag sitting in the locker, wondering what is buzzing around in Christian’s head. “Wow. That was… sad,” I say laughing. Christian blushes a light pink and rolls his eyes.

Boom! The chef set off a big fire. My mom, my sister, and I were in the hibachi place Sakura. The chef was setting up the grill. I felt like the happiest person in the world. I have never been to a place like this before; I was wondering how good the steak was going to be.

I see young mothers waddling after their toddlers with their projected pregnant stomachs, and the men calling each other slang terms that are deemed “manly.”

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.

I watch as Caleb stuffs a pickle into his mouth and I can tell by his face he really doesn't like pickles. He takes another huge bite and I'm worried that he's going to throw up all over the place. Then he shoves the rest into his mouth and swallows it and goes back to his group to tag Jordan in. I look at Violet and she has to eat a long candy snake that looks like it came in a seven pound bag. I can hear her trying to eat it and she's gagging so badly. In my head I'm crossing my fingers-hoping she won't throw up everywhere but luckily she didn't. She eats the rest and tags the next person in her line. I would've gag and thrown up if I had to stick that whole thing in my mouth. Bleh. Violet comes back and I can see that her eyes were light

Typical Saturday nights in Jackson, Mississippi begin with a text saying something along the lines of “______ is having a party” or even just a dropped pin with a time. The night of February 23, 2016 was not the ordinary Saturday night for a majority of Northeast Jackson high school students. Around four o'clock Saturday afternoon, Gracie receives a text via GroupMe that there is a party at eight o'clock at Grayson’s in Raymond. As always, Daniel assembles the carpool, and Mason volunteers to be the designated driver. Daniel and Mason went out to buy the alcohol for the group, and Margaret and Gracie request Barefoot Moscato, Michelob Ultra, and Smirnoff. Margaret and Gracie contribute the Sprite, cranberry juice, bottled water, and crackers.

James stood in the streets of downtown Hartford. A light, freezing rain soaked the wool coat. He didn’t have a hat, and his hair was covered in an increasing thick layer of ice. He stepped into the package store a few times to warm up. The clerk would have let him stay, but he caught James trying to slip a pint of blackberry brandy into his coat pocket. After that, the clerk told James to get lost or he’d call the cops. James apologized and placed the bottle back on the shelf. The clerk didn’t know that James had already successfully pilfered a bottle and slipped it into the other pocket of the wool coat.

Just as I was about to ask Phil what he meant when he said he couldn't control himself around me, Chris and PJ return.