Hope
On the dark wood table, a plain plate lay inches away from Abigail. Her blond hair flounced around her shoulders. Her light blue dress with darker flowers brought out the bright blue in her eyes,...
Issue: <span>March/April 2010</span>
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On the dark wood table, a plain plate lay inches away from Abigail. Her blond hair flounced around her shoulders. Her light blue dress with darker flowers brought out the bright blue in her eyes, which contrasted strangely with the rich brown of Hope’s. Hope, on the other side of the room, was sweeping the grimy floor with a homemade broom of stiff bristles.
Loud chirping surrounds the house.
It is hard to concentrate on anything else,
While the wood frogs and peepers are calling.
Silently, I put down my book, and slide away from my chair.
I lean out of the window, seeing nothing,
But feeling something in the air.
The stars are shining brightly.
I cannot see the tiny creatures,
But their voices are calling, calling,
Begging to be heard.
The wind tugged at my hair as I rode my bike faster and faster, trying to shake off the constant dread that was welling up inside me. Sweat glistened on my brow. My whole body ached. Burning fire ran up my throat. But the faster I pedaled the more my dread rose, until visions started to appear before me. Two smirking figures flashed before my eyes. Numbers and letters swirled.
The Year the Swallows Came Early, by Kathryn
Fitzmaurice; HarperCollins: New York, 2009;
$16.99
What happens when someone you love betrays you? Well, in this book, The Year the Swallows Came Early, you can learn that understanding and forgiving someone you love is the key for your own peace of mind.
Mara was entranced. The shop blurred before her in a tribute of glory to the necklace. Draped carelessly over a slender black velour cone, its gold, glassy pendant gem glittered as if with dew. It hung on a short golden chain. Mara could tell, without even trying it on, that it would nestle snugly in the hollow of her throat with a cool, fluid ease.
Our car trundled along a dusty gravel road one day in the middle of July. I stared out the window at the clouds of dry dirt that billowed from beneath our tires, picturing what our car must look like from the outside. Aside from the layer of dust covering it, our big red Subaru looked completely normal.
I curl my cold fingers
Around the yellow Frisbee
Coil my arm back
Dip it low, flex my wrist,
Release.
It sails smoothly through the air
Floats gently above my father’s head
And then
The wind carries it slowly
Into his waiting hands
He smiles and tosses it
Back into the wind
I am prepared
My arms are open, ready
As his were
To grasp it, to hold it in my clutches
But instead
The wind takes it,
Swo...
In a marsh, long green grass reaching up to touch the sun swayed slightly in the cool morning breeze. The marsh was teeming with animal and insect life. A snake slithered through the grasses looking for mice while an osprey swooped low overhead, wind ruffling its feathers. The osprey was looking for an animal to catch; a fish was on the main course for today.
A dull, cloudy morning,
On the couch with my parents,
Cozy, like the three little bears.
My dad holds the camera,
…Why?
An unexpected turn in the lethargic morning conversation
My dad tells me to look at some papers,
Confused and unsure,
Why are they meant for me to read?
OUR MAGICAL ISLAND
“Hey, Cam,” MaCall whispered, nudging me in the side to wake up.
“What?” I asked groggily, peeling one eye open. “What time is it?”
“Midnight,” MaCall grinned.
I groaned.
“I got some M&Ms from the vending machine at gymnastics. Do you want to share them with me on a magical island?” MaCall asked excitedly.
“Huh?