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Literature Text
A teddy bear;
An old record;
A doll.
An old postcard;
Some love letters too;
A picture of the best of friends.
A pact as old as a cardboard box;
Made on a dark, cold night.
To reunite in the near future
To Reminisce of the past.
The friends come together
Pleased to see each other,
Shovel in their wrinkled old hands.
They dig up the box
And open it up
To see their cherished memories.
A teddy bear;
An old record;
A doll from fifty years ago.
An old postcard;
Some yellowed love letters too;
A black-and-white picture
of the best of friends.
These are the items of their Time Capsule.
An old record;
A doll.
An old postcard;
Some love letters too;
A picture of the best of friends.
A pact as old as a cardboard box;
Made on a dark, cold night.
To reunite in the near future
To Reminisce of the past.
The friends come together
Pleased to see each other,
Shovel in their wrinkled old hands.
They dig up the box
And open it up
To see their cherished memories.
A teddy bear;
An old record;
A doll from fifty years ago.
An old postcard;
Some yellowed love letters too;
A black-and-white picture
of the best of friends.
These are the items of their Time Capsule.
Literature
The Vagrants Tale 3: Plans
The Vagrants
Tale 3: Plans
After resting within the room for the rest of the day, Mercer was told that he could get out of bed by Osip and was given his medication. After taking the medication with no sleeping pill this time, he felt the effects of it. Mercer would cringe a bit as he felt a sort of tingle flow through every single individual nerve in his body, followed by numbness. The numbness ended within a few minutes and he would feel perfectly fine. Mercer found that Osip had left the room and would start to walk out of the small hospital room. He would head towards the side to his left, but would be pointed out that it was a storage
Literature
Farewell
Dear, Jessica.
Today Ronnie Childs died. Lucky me. The boys don’t want me to walk out and walk freee.
I can’t blame you for finally leaving me those months ago, but I know you too well.
You wouldn’t have ripped me from your heart, even though you should have. I don’t regret loving you, but letting you love me is the greatest sin.
Or second worst. The first was joining a gang.
I went numb as I ran out of things to care about.
Stopped caring about the taste of blood drawn in a fight, the bruises and cracked bones of my boys and myself, or what the other guys looked like.
Stopped caring about breaking into stores, robb
Literature
TMIL3: Chapter 3
For an eternity Kiyone gazed at Washu with a puzzled, eye twitching stare. Her mind was full of bewilderment, followed by anger. Why was she doing this she wondered? So lost in thought was she that she failed to notice Ryoko suddenly appearing in front of her.
"Gah!" Kiyone yelped with surprise, nearly jumping out of her skin. "Uh... what?"
Ryoko was staring at her chest. She looked her over from head to toe "Looks the same to me," then informally poked her breasts and turned back to face Washu with a brow irritably raised. "Have you been drinking my Sake?"
"Wait," Ayeka butted in and walked closer. "Those breasts do look bigger," (Kiyone
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Just a poem about stuff that you would find in a time capsule.
© 2003 - 2024 asaila
Comments1
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I like it! I can see all those thing you describe and it would be kind of eerie in a way. Looking at things that people used to have in their lives and thinking about them. Great job!