Creative Writing: Moving Into A Townhome

The stagecoach arrived at the Farlow depot in less than an hour. While the passengers climbed from the stage, curious bystanders meandered outside glimpsing at the dead men.

The hot air choked me as I left the airport and got into an old beaten down car. The cracked roads made it impossible to drive. Dumpsters were overfilled with toxic waste that impatiently waited to be cleaned. Everything eaten, used or not needed was thrown in any place for animals to eat and homeless people to take. Stray cats and dogs roamed the streets like kings and queens. Everything seemed so filthy, but no one else cared how the scenery looked, or if animals with rabies ran free.

My name is Madison Dalke and I will be renting the 1324 Colorado St Apartment #1 this up coming year. My lease for my previous apartment is over on July 29th at 12:00. I am trying to figure out what to do with my stuff over the weekend. Is it possible to move my things in early to the apartment? If not possible can I leave a U-Haul parked in front of the

One car, one wrench, and one roll of duct tape. That's all I needed to get a three and a half ton Yukon out of a “very broke down situation.” Hearing the car start clucking, I started to think “I’m gonna be awhile.” The Boston Mountain loops scenic roads are nice to drive but I guess I didn’t get to be lucky that evening in October. Besides the truck start to stalling out, going around the sharp curves on a hill with momentum was a thought of I’m going to crash. Not only did I have to fear that, but when I got pulled over, that the car kick out gear and go rolling down the hill. I did have some luck that day; having brought a toolbox with me.

What is the personal significance of your given name (first, middle, and last)? My given name is Kimberly Müller. The personal significance of my given name is very important to me because I want my name to always have something great behind it, that’s one of my goals. My surname came from Germany, I sometimes wonder how a German surname came all the way to Haiti. My first name is the most perfect name for myself, so I just have to thank my parents for that, my mother’s name starts with the same letter as my name.

One day, I was drawing something when my older sister comes up to me and tells me that she’s going to a place called “La La Land” (more than a decade before the movie, btw). I was too absorbed in my drawing to really care and shrugged it off. She wanders off and I don’t see her for some time.

We got out of the car and the second I shut the door out came the Lopez family. She said to me “Theres no way in this entire world that I could do to repay you for raising this money to keep my family safe in a home that has secure walls and a door with a lock on it.” “Here i find myself thinking that if anyones life is going to be changed, its mine, and I'm so grateful for this opportunity” I replied. As the day goes on children from all over the community are coming over to the house begging us to play soccer with them, braid there hair, and take pictures with them. My heart was filled with so much joy Putting so much hard work into something and being able to say that not only did your hard work pay off for yourself, but it paid off for

"Dom would be so proud of you, Lottie," Frankie said as Charlie took her seat, leaning against the platinum blonde male, her head on his shoulder lightly. Energy, adrenaline, emotion all swam through her veins like liquid fire, leaving her shaken. Add in thinking she'd seen Eric - a thought confirmed mere moments later - and she was left shaken. Would he ask her at work? Would he ask after her brother and learn why she was so committed to their cause? Would he ask and care? Would he care at all. Charlie nodded and looked up at Frankie, smiling softly, "Maybe, but it's hard to be proud when you're not here."

Tiffany pulled into Jennifer’s driveway. The first snow of the year had fallen the day before. The sun shone brightly off the snow and ice. Jennifer put on a pair of sunglasses and climbed into Tiffany’s SUV.

“Virginia, do not bring your crackers into my living room,” the old frail woman exclaims. “My son is coming over in an hour and I will not allow crumbs all over my couch.”

The drive home was difficult; his vision swam and his muscles felt stiff and achy. Too bright city lights glared at him, pierced his eyes. His head throbbed, beat, beat, beat, in rhythm with his racing heart. Nausea rocked in his stomach and every noise seemed amplified. Why were these damn people driving so slowly? He needed to get home; he was already late as it was, and his father wouldn't be pleased. Leaving the glowing city behind him, Aiden found slight relief in the peaceful country roads and sharp peppermint smelling pines that surrounded his home, if you could call it that.

I feel very mad I feel like I’m dead I use to have a best friend until he called me names. Why me I am not smart or athletic why me?

Five days homeless and have no idea what life may throw against me. Sometimes, no, almost all the time, life's hands-down unfair. One thing I learned from life is, don't take whatever life throw at you because that life doesn't care if you stumble nor at the edge of the cliff. You have to stand up on your feet or spread your wings and fly. Don't rely on life, rely on yourself 'cause there's nothing gonna happen if you just sit around, waiting for another lemon or an orange, you just had to snatch it from its hand, take all the oppurtunities and make the most of it

Are you kidding me? The question popped into my head as I watched, unable to do anything about it, as the teenager backed into my car in the Wal-Mart parking lot. Clearly an inexperienced driver, she had put her car in reverse without checking her mirror and smashed into the passenger side of my vehicle as I drove slowly in the aisle. To her credit, she jumped out of her car immediately and asked if I was alright. I was; we had both been driving at such low speed that there was not much risk of personal injury. Still, there was a sickening crunch when her car hit mine and one look at the right side of my Jeep told me I would be driving a rental for a few days while my vehicle was in the body shop. After exchanging information and listening to a tearful father-daughter phone conversation, I made my own phone calls and drove to the next town to a body shop recommended by my insurance company. The car, fortunately, was drivable, but I had to get an estimate and make an appointment for repair. Twenty minutes later, I walked into the body shop. The smell of repair compound and paint immediately took me back to some of the happiest memories of my childhood. Not many people can make that claim! Scent, for me, is a powerful trigger for memory and emotion. Taking in the smells of the body shop, I was immediately six years old again, sitting in the big desk chair in the office of my

Manny Aguayo retreated to the bathroom, kicking out whoever was making out in there. Angelina’s little stunt had left a stinging in his eyes that he needed to get rid of. She was the first girl who had actually rejected his advances so violently. Girls normally threw themselves at him. “Qué puta.” He muttered to himself as he flushed the beer out of his eyes.