Creative Writing: Reynold Calaber

“Creative Writing” by Etgar Keret, shows the struggles of the couple grieving a miscarriage, though their stories that they wrote in creative writing class. Maya the wife write three different stories, the first one showing how a loss of an unborn child can make someone feel like they have died, or lost a part of themselves. The second is about how a women a may go through a period where she feels detached from her husband. The third is about the journey of accepting a miscarriage and ready try again. Aviad’s story is about continuously adapting to change and always remembering where you came from.

“For this kid? You bet I would! The phrase was "I'm gonna kill you." The kid yelled it at the top of his lungs! Don't tell me he didn't mean it. Anybody says a thing like that the way he said it, they mean it.” Attack on

"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.

“I don’t know; I didn’t vote for him. I didn’t vote for anyone, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, you can't make me come with you. I don’t want to face it,” Genevieve screamed.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Now you’re going to slide your pistol toward me, and if you try anything, my men will kill you.”

Laurel nodded her head when she heard that Zinda would be willing to aid her in her efforts of keeping the city running smoothly. “With that attitude I think Ryder will love you.” She stated with a small laugh, her head shook from side to side. “Even before the outbreak I always had a hard time sleeping.” She reached her right hand up and placed it against the back of her neck, rubbing at it. “So it really doesn’t bother me all that much.” She nodded her head. She knew what Zinda said was true, that she should try and sleep more but that seemed easier said than done. She really tried to sleep at night sleep just seemed to elude her, it was never there when she really need it. Like the night they got back from the Farmhouse, all she wanted to do was fall asleep and forget the whole events that had taken place there. Sadly that didn’t happen, she stayed up all night thinking about how she could have done thing differently, that she should have stayed with Kate.

I never knew the Smokies were so close to my grandparent’s retirement village. Every summer all the cousins jammed into Grandpa’s Ford for our jaunt up the mountains. But back then the hills had no name. They were recognized only by the pop of our ears and the pink silk trees bowing down to the highway. Since those days I have grown partial to any patch of grass with “National Park” tacked to its title. Today the mimosas still tossed their petals to traffic, and the truck remembered its ever-present perfume of damp golden retriever. But today we were going to The Great Smoky Mountains National Park. “Cade’s Cove, next left,” the road sign read, and two bikes bumped along on the car hitch.

If he had been human, everything would have been easier. Hal's life would have been so much better; he wouldn't have been forced to fight, or be controlled by the code in his head. He would have grown into a different, maybe better person. But then, they would still be stuck in the compound, still there when the bots had malfunctioned, and they may have not even escaped. Perhaps they would have died an untimely death and not have escaped into the wastes and would be left to rot in the desecrated compound, forgotten, and the only sign they were there were their desecrated skeletons, and even those would be ground away by the sands of time until they eventually became nothing. It was a pity that they would meet that fate regardless; Dirk would

It was late. The moon had risen high and the starry sky brightening up the dark night. Various hex-tech lamps lit up the mostly clear streets of Piltover, and the buildings had their lights off. All, but one.

It was dark when I arrived at the village. People were going about their nightly chores before they retired for the night. They quickly escorted me to the wigwam of a woman who was in labour.

I was here I was walking threw the amazing wooden doors into the most fantastic park. I was standing on the floors of the GREAT WOLF LODGE. I was there with Amanda, Lyla, Calista, and Kira. We all quickly walked over to the check in desk so that we could get our wristbands and bust over to the water park. There were about one, two, three, four five people standing in front of us. While we were standing in line there was an amazing window that was huge and we could see every person and every ride in the park. We saw one of the biggest slides there we say the most crazy slide it was called HOWLIN TORNADO. We finally got to the front of the line and we were ready to get our wristbands on. The manager slipped on a teal waterproof wristband the said “GREAT WOLF LODGE”

Guido couldn’t believe he was home alone after he arrived from middle school. Mom was usually standing in the kitchen, making him a delicious snack consisting of fruits and sandwiches, smiling brightly as she graciously served him, knowing full well that he was tired from a hard day of learning.

Eleanor doesn’t dodge the second punch. It hits her ear and she crumbles to the floor. The stench of blood takes over her senses and makes her head spin. A sharp kick to her ribs makes her scream. Eleanor isn’t used to physical beatings such as this --  emotional yes, but not physical. Bodily pain is something she doesn’t know how to deal with.

Summary: Alex had only ever known Michael as the mysterious man who’d protected him from a few bullies, gifting him with a small knife and the promise of teaching Alex to use it, before vanishing. Never to be seen again.