Joshua Bland: A Short Story

Joseph Francis Girzone is a priest. Advised by his doctor to withdraw from administrative work, he immediately set about a new career as a writer and philosopher. Though only 54 years old at the time he wrote the book, his experience as a priest had been unusual. He worked with teenage gangs in New York, and in the local mining area of Pennsylvania. He taught in schools most of his life, and worked in parishes at the same time. He was chairman of a government human rights commission which settled a jail riot and mediated racial tensions in public schools. On numerous occasions, he was called upon to negotiate in prison disturbances.

I reached in my pocket for my pen so I could sketch some flowers. I pulled out a few dollars bills, and I remembered my mother gave me money so I could buy some milk for her. I turned around and went to the grocery. I went into the milk section, grabbed a jug, and headed to the checkout. The man in front of me in the line was staring at me. He looked at me like I was a vicious beast. I began to feel uncomfortable. The teenage brothers behind me were rough housing and when one threw a punch, they knocked me with their elbow. I couldn’t keep my balance. I went diving towards the ground, and I hit the man in the back with my nose. He fell to the ground, holding both his arms like he broke them. I got up and tried to help him up. He was backing up in fear saying, “Monster, you monster.” Everyone began to stare and back away from me, even the brothers. It was completely silent. I could hear my breathing. I heard one of the employees whisper to someone, “Call 911.” Then I bolted out the front door. I ran as fast as my little feet could go. In the corner of my eye I could see people behind me. They were catching up to me. At this point, I knew I couldn’t run any longer. I started to stumble and then, I felt a hand hook my shell. I went flying back. After that, the moment was surreal. I knew my mom was going to kill me, if the police don’t first. I don’t even remember much of it

I have very fond memories of my dad. One of the best memories I have with my dad was when we went to watch the new fast and furious movie. We went to the Cinema Carousel

Jeremy Johnson had always knew he didn’t belong in unkempt Agrestic with its uneducated residents and a high murder rate. Although he had to live in such awful conditions he defied the typical poor black high school stereotype and excelled in school, was caption of his school’s basketball team, and volunteered at his local youth group. All he wanted was to complete his senior year and get out of the town with his scholarship to Howard University, but he couldn’t graduate without doing one thing first. Helping Lydia. He knew his sister was heading down a life-threatening path and he’d do anything to help her.

After spending five years in prison, and living away from his family for another three, JACK SUTTON knew it was time to go home. He needed to do so. He needed to finish healing and learn to live again, instead of just existing. A fight in a bar brought GARRETT MARSDEN into his life. He was a doctor and one willing to make a discreet to the motel where Jack waited, unable to go home and needing to stay off the radar of the local authorities.

Jonathan Smith tasted soot: not an unusual experience. He bit off another piece of the bread he was chewing on and swallowed it down, ignoring the burning at the back of his throat. It was not such a difficult task when one had as much practice as Jon. He reached over and grabbed his bottle of water. He emptied its contents into his throat, the last of the day’s supply. He really should be getting home - his shift was almost over. Jon looked around, seeing the inside an old hanger, a dark cavernous space that made him feel the size of an ant. He examined the workers around him, their eyes all focused on their own rations, all of them strangers to him - all Weathermen, although the definition of that term had changed over the years. Weathermen were never allowed to get to

    “Here, smell this,” she said, as she began dousing my hand in a strong scented oil, “it will help you calm down.” I’ve never been one that enjoys having my personal bubble space violated; a strange woman touching my arm and pouring oil all over my hand triggered my internal alarm. I began to freak out. I just wanted out of that building so desperately, but I stayed put. Then, as if one stranger wasn’t enough, another complete stranger entered the room. She was much younger that Ms. Spray Tan, maybe in her teens. She wore dark, exposing clothes, and had some crazy over-dyed hair. She approached me. I looked up and stared at her many piercings jumbled all over her face. The two strangers stood on each side of me. Needles suddenly appeared in their hands. My mom’s face filled with worry. Each woman grabbed one of my ears and the older boss lady started counting down, I closed my eyes, “3...2...1….” My heart beat louder and louder as each second passed by. Here comes the pinch. I braced myself for what was about to happen. “It will only be a second,” I repeated over and over in my head.

Josh Cage was the guy you’d go to when you wanted drugs. He had many businesses but he was a hard man to be pinned to any given dirty crime. It was good how he had managed to hide all his dirty acts behind a business that was legit up front. It was nearly impossible and a newly appointed chief had finally nailed him. It was small but he did and Gregory knew that he should have been more careful. After spending wholesome amount of money, he as sentenced for only two years. The crime he had committed should have gotten him at least 10 years behind the bars.

Gabi your dad was an awesome person. He was funny, kind, and smart. He also loved you and your sister very much. But most of all he was a great DJ. Gabi you are a very lucky person to have had a dad like that. My favorite memory of him was when he did the father daughter dance every year. Gabi never forget the things that always make you smile.

My mother was the person who traumatized me as I grew up. I was called out of my name, ugly, and fat. I walked on egg shells when my mother was at home. When I told my father of what she was doing he didn’t believe it, because when he was around she was kind to me. Nothing I could do and say was good adequate. I was beaten, burned and cursed for being alive. I was a premature baby and when I was born if it had not been for my father I would be dead. The doctors told my parents by me being so small they could not guarantee that my vital organs would function properly and my mother said well put her to sleep. My father said well if she dies it will be on her own and I survived. I was a six-month premature baby and I often wonder if my mother

Mexico itself was beautiful, Jay Kelley thought to himself one night in his hotel room. The architecture, the people, the art and culture, it was all wonderful. The food was divine, the women even more so, and Jay had never felt so simultaneously happy and out of place in his life. To Mexico, he was another tourist. A balding, middle-aged white guy with a fanny pack that his almost ex-wife pushed into his hand before he left for the airport. She told him to be real careful of the pickpockets “down there”, and Jay resented her so much in that moment, he wanted to slap her upside the head and scream “You’ve only ever been to Cancun, ya dummy! What do you know?” Instead, he smiled tightly and waved a tense goodbye as she drove away from the gate, actually breathing a sigh of relief once she was out of sight, like in the movies.

My brother and I started an upcoming art company. We are looking to recruit artist. Particularly we are looking for manga/comic artist at this time.

Joshua and Caleb were described by God as men of complete courage and faith. Their speech and actions proved that their commitment to God was as immense as their knowledge of their almighty God. Joshua and Caleb were among the twelve spies whom Moses sent to explore the “Promised Land.” And in exploring the land, Joshua and Caleb distinctively saw God’s sovereignty, faithfulness, and truthfulness that they strongly persuaded God’s people to go up and possess the land. They believed that God would fight for them and defeat these godless people living in the land of their inheritance which God gave to their forefathers. (Numbers 13:30) However, the other ten spies saw sure death and defeat if they fight the giants and great fighters of Canaan

I was awoken in the middle of the night by loud knocking at the door. Mom turned the lights on and dad suspiciously opened the door. I saw the silhouette of two workers standing there. One handed him a paper and the other gave him a flashlight and batteries. Dad thanked them and they left, moving down to the next room. I watched him as he read the paper, furrowing his eyebrows together before handing it to my mom. She read it with a horrified look. All she could muster out was, “Oh my god,” before setting the paper down. “Let me see it,” Chelsea demanded, sitting up. I leaned over and read it with

The teenage boy stood there still as stone, a marble statue, his flesh had gone beyond the colour of marble, to a new ghostly tinge of white, void of colour. His eyes were the only thing expressing any emotion, and that was fear. Extreme fear, the kind where you can feel your impending death, as it stares you in the face. After moments of complete petrification the traumatised boy spoke in a shaky and terrified voice.
“W-Why are you h-here Lock, get away from me please…” he said to my boyfriend, his eyes flinching, as if his body wasn’t still petrified. Eric, my boyfriend, chuckled loudly, that real genuine laugh, the one that your dad would make which felt warm and hearty like a hug during a thunderstorm. Usually it’d lighten up a conversation,