Holding hands

laying my palm flat on my bed, I twist my torso to face her. “How about all the details of my date?” She crosses an arm over her chest while tapping her index finger of her free hand on her pouting lips. “Yeah, seems suitable payment,” she says before commencing work on my hair and makeup. Once she's finished, she hands me a mirror, seeking my approval. As I twist my head,

I thought sleeping was difficult before but nothing can come close to this gloomy day. I lay next to my sleeping wife, mouth open slightly agape like a baby, as I stare at the ceiling seeing only red on my plain white walls. Seeing only red on my hands, the ones that once picked Banquo up in battle, and the same ones who will bury him today. I hear the echoes of curious voices questing why he is gone, questioning me... "Macbeth?" I jump a mile in the air at the unexpected sound, glancing to my left

else will look above deck.” “Ah captain you may want to check this out!” cried Gibson, my co-captain. I rushed into the captain’s quarters with my sword in my left hand along with some of my other crew members. Inside the small room there was a guy about my age chained to the dresser next to the window with a sword in it’s right hand. “What

How to Grip the Ball Proper grip is very crucial when holding a softball bat as well as the softball. The way you hold the ball will determine the accuracy and speed you can apply to it. Every softball players should understand how to grip the ball and practice the techniques. The most usual type of grip is called the four-seam grip. It is when the ball rotates in one full rotation or from top to bottom, making the four seams visible and will travel parallel to the ground. This will allow you to

It was until now that I realized my hands have taken me through more journeys than I've imagined. You see, as my father taught me how to ride my bike ,at the age of six, these were the hand that controlled the bike; and as I began to fall these were the same hands that also taught me how to pick myself up afterwards. Being young minded, I never understood the importance of my hands, of course, until I had to use them. These hands taught me how to never let go of someone that truly loves me, and because

watching as it came to a stop on the side of the road. Mrs. Kramer, the shopkeeper's wife, followed her out. “Who do you think they are?” Charlie asked the older woman, unconsciously moving her hand to rest on the handle of her k-bar. “It’s an Orphan Train,” Mrs. Kramer replied, holding up a hand to block out the noon day sun. “Had word they were headed this way about a month ago.” “An Orphan Train?” Charlie repeated as she watched dozens of children being herded out of the wagons and sat along

The familiar dong! of the bell rang above me. It was a blessing; today, Will was in a mood where everything I did was completely wrong, and he knew exactly how to fix it. First, he began with Photoshop. Alright, I admit, I was doing a crappy job on it, but I didn't care. Computer Graphics is one of the easiest classes to pass, so why would I go out of my way on a project that I get credit for if I just complete it. Then, Will started criticizing my writing. I hate criticism from everyone except

lady, get in". I opened the door and hopped right in. I have a worried but determined look on my face. "Don 't worry, Lisey. Everything will be alright. Don 't be afraid." Dyrick assured me. He steered with his left hand and held my left hand with his right. I smiled and helded his hand tighter. We arrived at school and got into Dyrick 's

companionship which are the main theme that the tomb attempt to illustrate about the couple. The tomb is barely plain and it’s hard to catch the attention of the observer, unless he/ she focus on the duke left hand holding the right hand of the right hand glove. The right hand holds the right hand of the princess to show the sign of eternal faithfulness and love even after their death. The author of the poem is astonished by the artwork that displays the tender of affection and eternal love as long

My hands start to shake as I step into the ice arena. I can’t tell if I’m nervous or just freezing. The ceiling is decorated with annoying pink and yellow streamers. Seems to be right up Susan’s alley. Susan was a friend I wasn’t used to having. She was one of the most popular girls in school and liked by other peers. Today, however, her persona was more timid and worrisome than usual. I turn my gaze towards her hands fidgeting on her shirt and look up to see her eyes with regret. Skating over to