Gyneth: A Short Story

As I examined the bracelet, her choice of colors struck me. I found it interesting that she chose black and white beads. It reminded me of our friendship, she has black skin, I have white, and we both felt so close with each other. Just as the beads on the string were intertwined and touching each other, we had touched one another’s lives.

“Right here,” I said, pointing at the lines. “Gifted eyes allow you to become one - free yourself. It’s time for me to free myself.”

“Then why do you have to jump of blackies?” He said it as if it was the most obvious thing ever. “couldn’t you do something else”

“Well you still don't have pain and color.” It's a shame but I can fix that.

“Got it!” he exclaimed, waving it gently as he pulled it from under a stack of other papers. “Now, what do you want to know exactly?” “Well, Andy thinks that since we

Isaac’s body heated from the embarrassment. “I kind of forgot to. What were you trying to tell me?”

That night, Venus knocked at Hartley’s front door until Olinda’s husband let her in. Venus entered Hartley’s room to give him the necklace, but he was asleep. She simply placed it around his neck, gave her best friend a kiss on the forehead, and went home. The following morning, Althea and Venus awoke to Olinda and Hartley’s ecstatic screams coming from their kitchen! Confused, Althea and Venus walked into their kitchen to see Hartley as healthy as ever. Venus and Althea, even through their sleepy haze, were absolutely thrilled. Then, Althea’s eyes fell on the green pendant in the same moment that Venus announced, “It worked! Mother, the drunk man’s green stone is magical!” Althea and Olinda shared a solemn glance; they know magic has its limitations. Feeling as if she had done something horribly wrong, Venus began to cry and beg forgiveness. Everyone assured her they couldn’t be happier that Hartley was alive and well, and they were all very

At night he would go out and look at the night across the water the shined at Daisy house. Then one day the light lost all it meaning.

As a child O'malley always wondered what laid at the end if a rainbow. Some whispered that there were unicorns. Others proclaimed there was an unholy monster. Citizens of Dublin Ireland even speculated that there is a pot of gold. The truth is no one has ever seen what was over the rainbow. Some sang about it like that Dorothy girl, who invaded many years ago. None have ever truly known what was beyond the rainbow. The leprechaun O'Malley at the young age of one hundred and ten, set out in his best green suit to discover what was at the end of a rainbow.

“Sarding son of a…” Gawain muttered under his breath. “Drea, it’s not what you think. Please let me in to explain.”

It is completely virgin, it produces overwhelming clarity of focus, it has heroic strength and brilliance. It exposes colours in their original prelapsarian state, as though straight from the imagination of God in His youngest days, when He still believed that all was good. The dark green of the pines is unfathomably and retreatingly deep, the ocean viewed from the top of a cliff is platonic in its presentation of azure and turquoise, emerald, viridian, and lapis lazuli. . . Once the eyes have adjusted to the extreme vestal chastity of this light, the light of any other place is miserable and dank by comparison... [pages 6/7]

It is the fact that this girl looks like her mom when braiding her hair. In fact, almost the same line repeats four times. “You remember thinking while braiding your hair that you look like your mother. Your mother who looked like your grandmother and her grandmother before her (Krik? Krak!, page 1 and 3).” There are other places on which she says it again, but she compares it to other elements. Like, when she writes it’s like braiding her hair, and then she leads it into her mother being disappointed in her and the voices in her head. It’s a lapsing line throughout this story. It’s important to see that while she may look like her mother on the outside, that she doesn't feel like that on the inside. The struggle to find identity is hard for everyone, but you have to be willing to find who you are. Demi Moore said, “The thing is, most people are afraid to step out, to take a chance beyond their established identity.” This relates so much to what is going out. This girl is afraid to do what she loves because her mom has already chosen what she is going to do. Her mom already labeled her identity, which made it twice as

During the 18th century history is constructed in a very poor manor. Women were treated as objects instead of human beings. When a woman took her husband’s name she had to be aware of her actions, fore they could ruin his name. During a Midwife’s Tale Martha Ballard talks about rape multiple times. Women got no say if she should report a rape or not because she had to consider whether it could ruin her family, or mostly her husband’s name. This is a time in United States history that we made foggy decisions. This time during United States history meets the same definitions as when we had slaves. Women were not bought and traded, however they were as close to slaves as any example you could find. They had no say and no rights.

Have you ever gone through your day only to throw your hands up in the air and say, "there must be an easier way!" If only we could get our makeup done faster, or fall asleep easier, then the rest will surely fall into place. That is where the rainbow haired maiden with a bubbly personality comes in.

Water reached the end of the river, and gazed at the three other leaders who stood at the end of their respective realms; Fire engulfed in his explosion of flames, Air suspended in his gyre of dangerously fast winds, and Earth protected by an impenetrable wall of