Her name was Lake, not the last name but the first. It didn't stand for anything except for itself. Her mother told her “that's where we found you, by the lake.” But she knew better now. She wasn't found at all. They made her by the lake in the way people did. The way you saw on TV. With soft moans and hard fingers and faces twisting in a pain that was really pleasure.
She was the youngest daughter, with fat cheeks and dark curls. Her oldest sister, Grace, had sleek pale hair parted in the middle. A natural part, she often said, unlike Lake's hair that decided each day which way it would lay. The middle sister was named Danice and she was the one that took Lake aside and explained all the lies Mother told her when she was five. You
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Around and round she flung and whirled. Entangled and knitted by the bobs and jerks of her head, the strings became defined, dimensional, and fell from her hands. Something splattered sparks from the fire when it landed there and hid from sight among the coals. Startled, she stopped and peered into the small flames but seeing nothing unusual, began to dance again. The shadows bounced off each other and joined her, until winded, she threw herself down on the grass and fell asleep.
She found it in the morning while kicking sand over the dead fire. It rolled out, a piece of sky from the ashes. It seemed lost, small but magnified at the same time. Picking it up, Lake blew away the grit. It brightened and took a beam of sunlight and scattered it into four colors, one for each direction. It was a glass door knob, still connected to the short metal rod that used to hold it to a door.
Might have made the fire over the top of it, she thought. It must have a history, broken off from its house and traveled here in someones pocket or maybe as something to amuse a child. She could see it was stained with a blush of violet from siting in the sun so that it wasn't exactly clear anymore. It loved the light as if it was born of it. It grabbed and spangled solar systems onto the sand and dirt, stretching stars of lime green and cobalt into the shadows.
The next day, she realized a quest came with the glass knob. Her overnight
The frame story that the grandmother tells is, in fact, her own life story, her identity, transformed in a way the girls can be fascinated and entertained by. The identity of the main character is empty so much so that the granddaughters “tried to imagine Wen Zhiqing daughter. What did she look like? How old was she? Why hadn't anyone remembered her name?”. (Chang 178) I believe the grandmother did this purposely, not to let the girls try to figure out it was her, but for them to focus more on the story than the person. In American culture, the mother's maiden name is something that is remembered. In Chinese culture, the father's full name has that much importance and even more. Which explains why the father name is mentioned it represents her full identity being from her father's seed and his fathers and so on. Breaking down the title “Water Names” I believe “Water” refers to the
Then she opened her eyes, and the steady streams of light had transformed themselves into hundreds, thousands, or even millions of dancing motes. They floated through the air and danced around her as if they possessed life of their own, waltzing along with the melody that pierced the curtain of darkness. She felt compelled to reach out to grab one, but knew they were better left undisturbed, like the dances of fireflies she used to watch as a child. One step and the beauty would be scattered.
Right now, she is trying to soothe the kids. She does this every night, and every night, the children go to bed with the promise that tomorrow would be a better day. I can hear her walk back into the room, but my eyes remain fixated on the fire, hypnotized by their dance; a fiery consumption that sends up sparks and ash. She silently begins to clean up the shattered mess, sweeping up the shards of glass, and soaking up the whiskey and gin. Her face is a ghostly white, completely devoid of emotion. The soft tinkling of the glass is? accompanied by the low crackling coming from the hungry flames.
My preschool years I started off at a school called Lake Rim in Hope Mills, North Carolina. My teacher's name was Mrs.Keller and we were all little kids so we thought she was scary because her name was so close to killer. By the second day we realized that she was a very compassionate and nice teacher after giving us candy for every math problem we got right. I didn't go to Lake Rim for long because I think we were two months into the school year and as I was getting out of the reading tub one day a kid named Jermaine. He had just got done at the math section before running across the classroom screaming and as I turned around to get out of the tub he superman kicked me in the face and I flew back into the tub. Mrs.Keller quickly came over to see if I was alright and took me to the guidance office because I had a bloody nose and a boot mark on my face.
through the arrow storm … Fire leaped from the thatched roofs … he hurtled down and past and
home. In that amount of time, Liz’s mother died of aids, and her father left Liz and Lisa, her sister. They had been staying with their uncle at the time. However, their uncle was abusive to them so
In the early morning hours, Emma Schrader sat up in bed. Her hands fumbled across the top of her nightstand feeling for the box of matches. She felt the familiar edges of the box; it was right where she left it. She retrieved a single matchstick and clumsily dragged the tip across the rough-hewn tabletop. A bright flame exploded into existence. Emma touched the match to the wick of the candle she kept on the table next to her bed.
12:30pm. She had dozed off. Her once lit cigarette was somewhere drifting in the lake. She got up and drew in her journal. She drew the tattoo on her shoulder. Then she heard the first knock. She looked around for a minute, convincing herself a fish bumped up against the boat. Then there was another pair of knocks. This time louder. She jumped. “Hello?” she called. No answer. It took longer to convince herself that there must of been a stick under the boat. She fell asleep once again.
Megan reigned as the alpha twin, starting when they’d been toddlers. She not only bossed Molly around, but little Willsy too.
CityHunterluv thanks so much for the support and the feedback I appreciate it! If anyone else would like to add or say something Im open to that as well! Thank you readers.
I never thought the day would come where I’d have to admit to myself I had an addiction. The hardest part was to except the fact I was an addict of painkillers and admitting it to my family so that I could get the help and support needed to get clean. The road leading to my addiction started with the factors of my childhood, always trying to fit in and not being supported emotionally from my parents. Having a child at the age of sixteen was the second factor, which made me grow up faster than a normal child at my age would have had to. Living the life of an addict was a struggle everyday but, getting help was the hardest part of it all. I’ll live with this disease for the rest of my life because recovery is a
Clanging fire bells, ringing sirens, crackling woods, and tromping feet - all amalgamated to assemble a chorus of trembling rumble. Roaring fire flashed in the sky. Plumes of dark smoke billowed in the air and enveloped the empty canvas above. Scorching heat seared into our integument, so unbearable that we seemed being baked. The flaming spears poured down like rain, adrenaline gushed into our veins, and the blood downed my feet.
One July monday morning Taylor, Jaden, Sammi, and Kylie decided to go to Lake Cocoon and started packing and left that monday night. Taylor had rented a lake house for her and her three friends for two weeks. It took them five hours to get to the lake. Once they arrived to the lake they couldn't find which lake house they were in because the houses were townhouses. Sammi went on her phone to look up the address. Then Taylor found the house then they started to unload the car. The house was tan on the outside and whites and grays on the inside and very beautiful decorating.
Children have a tendency to bring out the very best in people. I can say I have been fortunate to have four little blessings of my own. I consider each of them as a blessing and each day I am reminded of how much they mean to me. My children have brought out the best in me--parts that I never knew existed. As children grow, so do parents. I have evolved into a better person with the courage to overcome all obstacles because of the love that I have for my children.
The moonlight illuminated a dripping figure that emerged from a shimmering lagoon, as if covered in liquid metals. Glitter rained down from his head as he ruffled his hair, the view of him walking back up the path to us was like a scene from a movie. The moon was the fullest I’d ever seen it, teetering on top of Silver Lake. Summer noise was my favorite thing, the crackling fire a few feet from me, leaves above me whispering to the sky, even the low rumble of