United States

Child of God
Rider of the Rohirrim
District 12

Message from Writer

"And even when you think you're finished, it's not over yet," for KING & COUNTRY, "It's not Over yet"
"All of my dirt, all of my shame drowned in the streams that've made me born again," Jordan Feliz, "The River."
"Scars come with livin,' you are not alone," TobyMac, "Scars (Come With Livin')"
"I might bend but I won't break, I'll fight the elements," TobyMac "The Elements."
"Stand tall but above it all, fix my eyes on You," for KING & COUNTRY, "Fix My Eyes"
"Run wild, live free, love strong, you and me," for KING & COUNTRY "Run Wild."
"One by one we will call for a ceasefire...one by one, reaching out to our enemies" for KING & COUNTRY, "Ceasefire."
Currently reading Dubliners by James Joyce


December 7, 2020

PROMPT: “All Alive”

    I sit with my short legs folded under my body, the pine needles poking into my ankles as I watch the woods around me. Tickling ants crawl up to my knees, but I brush them off. The trees whisper and quiver as the wind shakes them, and more needles gently patter onto my dark head. I hear the wind gently speaking her love to the skies beyond the forest. She cannot speak well with the trees, because they protect each other here. Far away a bird sings, and a chorus of crickets answer as dusk falls. I can hear the crackling of the campfire behind me, past the woods to the clearing where the log cabin is. My siblings and cousins' voices carry, my baby brother's crying prevalent. My older cousin Anne's higher, careless tones remind me of how much older she is.
    The pines smell sweet and medicinal, that sort of drowsy, musty scent that signals we are in the middle of wilderness. The leaf mould is a pungent backdrop to that, but because it is the third day here I am already used to the smell and do not notice it anymore. When we go to the lake it is a damp, sitting-water smell, shallow and yet deep at the same time, like the lake hiding the snapping turtles beneath and the rattlesnakes in the brush. And then the field by the lane is sweet like grass, sweet and dry-smelling, with the warm golden aroma of dandelions. Mommy won't let us into the field though, because she says snakes are there. We found a dead snake—roadkill—its skin leathery and wilted like some old dry garden hose. I felt bad for it, but my uncle took it and put it back in the woods.
    The noise by the campfire grows louder, and I smell the sickly-sweet burnt aroma of marshmallows. It is time to head back.


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  • December 7, 2020 - 10:39am (Now Viewing)

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  • Rachaelgrace

    I love the descriptions in this one! It feels like I’m where the character is! Great job :)

    8 months ago
  • | rosi willard |

    All of your pieces are so well crafted. This is one of my favorites.

    8 months ago