Creative Writing: South Side Of Mississippi

"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.

It was August of 1829 in Mississippi. Men were harvesting corn and beans. The smell of the Choctaw own acorn bread filled the air. All the children were prancing about, playing with friends, shooting squirrels with their little toy bows, and wrestling for the last bite of jerky. All but one child. That lonely little boy’s name was Koi. Koi never got to play with the other Choctaw boys, as he had to prepare to become chief.

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.

The streets of South Bellevue are some to never be forgotten. The neighborhood is filled with the joyous laughter of children and the archaic wisdom of the elderly. It is one of the few amicable communities among the busy city. Bellevue shields it’s people like a mom who graciously protects her young from the dangers of the outside world. Bellevue is a wonderful neighborhood with a variety of individual experiences.

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.

inside. The time felt like forever, they were right above me and could find us any moment. I

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.

It’s not just the games played in front of thousands of hostile fans, but the travel for a mid-major with long bus rides and airport layovers takes its toll too.

The settlement of Cripple Creek came in sight as the men drove the herd of cattle through several large red sandstone monoliths. The cattle bellowed and moved in a strait forward procession down the winding dirt road, with El Capitan, known by the Spaniards as the ‘The Leader’ of the great Rocky Mountains, in view.

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.”

Lake Willowberry wasn’t an enormous lake, but it was sizable, with the approximate circumference length of a rounded football field. The lake was not far from my house, it was in the forest, and the forest encroached the south side of my fence—standing tall like a citadel of pine trees.

“That idiot wouldn’t know a masked booby if it landed in his lap,” thought Nelson.

Similar conversations popped up more and more often the closer we got to North Carolina. It seemed there was a church for every passing mile the closer we got to our destination and a cemetery always nearby.