Creative Writing: Welcome To Sandersville

Sunshine was pouring out from in between the buildings, casting shadows all around Ponyboy and the gang as they walked to Pony’s school. They were taking their time walking down the streets and for the first time they all were really seeing what was all around them. Memories were surfacing in their minds showing them what it all meant to them. With every step they took on the sidewalk they remembered a different memory as if they were walking down memory lane. Ponyboy didn’t think it was possible for him to be walking down this street for the last time as a high school student, but he had gone through the years with great grades that earned him many scholarships.

I comfortably drive my car into the desolate street, Perusing the deserted buildings, Smashes windows and rusted For Sale signs. The car locked up like Fort Knox. I observe the street for trouble. Two young boys look at me from afar as if I'm an alien. Do I stand out that much same greasy hair, expensive clothes, a smart car I suppose I am out of my comfort zone? “Mister, you don’t belong here” his hand gripped his switch. “Pony.... Ponyboy Curtis” I stammer “I live here or at least I did, I'm here to see two-bit’ The Boys turn around “geez his old now” the boy's chirp. The boys stroll away in awe that they saw the great Ponyboy.

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.

After a long Thursday of work on the ranch the hard working men packed into the dining hall. Everyone rushed through the lineup to eat first and instantly the sound of growling stomachs and clinking forks and knifes filled the dining room that was silent moments ago. George, Slim, Lennie, Candy and Carlson in their dirty work wear an scuffed boots sat around an old wood dining room table that was aged with scratches and cuts from the many men that had worked at the ranch before the five men that sat around the table today. The men chowed down on roast beef with gravy and garlic mashed potatoes. Lennie was thrilled as he ate his mountain of potatoes. Gravy spilled down the edge of old Candy’s lips. “Jesus Candy do you have any table manners?” Carlson asked with frustration in his deep voice.

Vance’s upbringing was not effortless, and while he did not write this book as a woeful, self-pitying tale, but instead to shed light on the hillbilly culture, I could not help but feel moved by the profound impact Vance’s grandmother had

“My mother would gently set herself down in her customary chair near the stove. I sat across from her, my father and sister to my left and right, and crammed in the center was all the food I had made-a spicy codfish stew,

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.

“Chloe move it, you take up the space for both of our lockers.” Annie said pushing Chloe out of the way.

What comes to mind when you think of Flint, Michigan? I think of a city filled to the brim with crime and thousands of unemployed workers. A place where you can’t use the water in your own house because you are afraid of getting lead poisoning. As it was once deemed the worst place to live in all of the United States, it is probably hard to think of a time where it was any different. Well, Flint was not always this way. Believe it or not, it used to be a prosperous and beautiful city that was home to one of the richest businesses in the world, General Motors. So you might be wondering, “Why did this amazing place turn into the wasteland it is today?”. Everything that is happening in Flint right now is due to the horrible decision Roger Smith

For my trip to Louisiana I would bring along two of my friends. I would bring along Granddaddy Cain, because on car rides it is better to have Quality Company than to have quantity in company. One quality of his that I admire is that he is described as “tall and quiet like a king” (Bambara, 67). This quality is repeated twice in the story and is inferred from the description of his large hands. Another good quality is his manners in which he deals with the two men. He starts out nice and welcomes both men “like he’d invited them to play cards and they’d stay too long” (68). After Cathy describes how his coworkers would describe him granddaddy Cain. He then gives the two men a reason to leave by swatting at their camera and makes it hit the

A blue house, red shutters, and a white picket fence with a border collie. Three kids are running around in the front lawn up on a hilltop. That is what the American dream is right? The American dream is truly in the eye of the beholder. One might think that the American dream is an apartment in downtown Los Angeles, but others might want the smell of fresh cut grass in a small suburb. It’s whatever the person who is working for it wants it to be. As we can see in the play, all of the main characters might be striving for an American dream, but none of them are striving for their same American dream.

The storm erupted minutes after Casey returned to the main highway. Lightning streaked in double succession sideways and downwards in a fantastic show of Mother Nature’s wrath.

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.

According to my mom, I wouldn’t answer the lady’s questions about whether my shoes were too tight or if I knew how to plie yet. The old lady pulled shoe