Pony Express

Me being an orphan boy, I never expected to be important.  I wasn't anything special.  I was short and skinny (Lass).  I had no muscle, no bulk.  I was nineteen, but most people mistook me to be younger (Lass). But I guess I was hired because of those things.  

I was chosen to be one of the two hundred riders, but Mr. Russell, Mr.Majors, and Mr.Waddell gave me more than a job (letter) (Lass) . They gave me a place where I belonged.  Sure, the weather could be bad at times, but, I still loved it.  There was no greater joy than racing my bronco along the trail with nothing in sight but nature and no purpose in mind than the delivery.  Switchin’ horses every fifteen miles at a new station created a rhythm that became the background beat to the song of my life (Encyclopedia).

I guess I really was good at riding 'cause I set the record for the fastest delivery.  Seven days, seventeen hours (Lass) .  I had shaved five days off of our average delivery rate of twelve days (Lass).  Yep, I was pretty proud.  It gave me a name, a title.  I finally had something to brag about to the other boys.  

Everything was perfect.  My life finally had meaning.  I had a purpose.  And then, the telegraph came and destroyed everything (Lass).  I had only been hired eighteen months ago, and already, I was out of a job (Lass).  We were told to pack up and go home.  The company had been shut down.  Before I left, I grabbed a sheet of the thin stationary off the counter of the station (Lass).  Just something to remember the Pony Express.

Works Cited

Encyclopedia, The Columbia Electronic. Fact Monster. n.d. 28 February 2013.

Lass, William E. Encyclopedia of the Great Plains. n.d. 28 February 2013.

letter, San Fransisco News. The Virtual Museum of the City of San Fransisco. n.d. 28 February 2013.

Most Embarrassing Moment In My Life!!!

Even though I'm quiet, I 'm a really confident person.  I don't get embarrassed a lot.  But there was one time, this year, where I was truly embarrassed.

It all started in gym...with a scooter. We were playing some weird basketball type game where we had to sit on the scooter and try to throw doge balls in a bucket.  I scooted forward and my weight shifted.  I put my hand on the floor to regain my balance, but my scooter was still moving.  It rolled over my thumb and immediately I felt a sharp pain. My thumb had been cut on one of the metal pieces that attached the wheel to the scooter.  

I raced across the gym to Mr.Schulz but by the time I got there, already there was blood dripping over the side of my thumb. (I'm not exaggerating.)  He put a band-aid on my thumb and I sat down.  I have this stupid hereditary thing called "trauma induced fainting,"  In other words, I see a lot of blood, or go through a lot of pain, and I pass out.  I couldn't control it when I was little, but by now, I had gotten a hold of it. Enough, at least that I didn't go unconscious.  I still got light headed and really pale though.  Mr.Schultz wanted me to go to the nurse, but I told him I couldn't walk, I was too light headed.  So he sent for the nurse and she brought a wheelchair.  Great, I thought.  I look like a big cry baby in a wheelchair when all I did was cut my thumb.

Anyway,she wheeled me down the hallway and to the elevator.  She was about to push the elevator button when she remembered that she had to get something from her mailbox.  With the teachers lounge being right across the hallway, she left me in the hallway after saying she'll be right back.  I'm praying no one will see me when, who, but the principal himself walked into the hallway.  Me still as white as a ghost, he asked if I was okay, but before I could answer, the nurse finally came out.  She took me up to the second floor and I attempted at casually saying hi to my friends in the hallway.  Because, you know I'm always super pale and in a wheelchair, no big deal, nothin new.

After she cleaned my cut, I rested in the nurses office with an ice pack on my thumb and regained my color.  She finally let me go back to class.  I was no longer light headed, but my thumb was throbbing and every time I tried to grab something with my right hand, all the blood rushed to my thumb and it felt like rubbing hand sanitizer on an open wound and then setting fire under your skin.(Okay, little bit of an exaggeration there.) 

 Disabled, I went to math and after attempting several times to peel my clementine one-handed, I succumbed and asked my friend to peel it for me.  I got through the day, but had to retell everything to my mom when I  got home.

So I guess it was more of a day than a moment, but it really was extremely embarrassing. 

Not With a Bang but a Whimper

Author's Note: This piece was inspired by T.S. Eliot's poem The Hollow Men.

The door was rattling.  Girls were crying. People may have been dying.

  The window smashed.  All this happened timelessly.  I was closest to the door.  I would be first. 

He walked in on the disaster of our classroom.  Items were scattered about, thrown out of the way in the panic.  Crossing the room, he crunched on a pen.  Its spring popped out and landed near my feet.  We looked up at him, he looked down at us.  Twenty-six to one, yet the odds were against us.  He  glanced at the trembling Mrs. Ecnelis and crossed over to her. 

“Joe, you didn’t tell me you had a gun.”

“Oh…you’re right.  I should have told you.  WELL MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME THAT YOU WERE SEEING ANOTHER MAN!”

“We weren’t having an affair.  We just ran into each other at the bank and he took me out for coffee.  Then he kissed me.”

“Well then why were you always texting each other?  Huh?”

“Joe, just stop it.  You’ve taken this too far.  I-“

“Enough talk!”  He brought the gun up to her face and fired it.  Girls screamed.

“WHO’S NEXT?!”

He grabbed me and slammed me against the wall.  “Any last words?”

So this is how my world ends, not with a bang but a whimper.

Bang.  The gun went off.  A whimper escaped my lips before they became cold.

Girls cried.  I died.

Couch

My greatest masterpiece.  I have sat on it for years, waiting for this moment, when the perfectly round, deep imprint of my bottom has formed.  I have taken a nail to it many a time, until the last scratch had been completed.  But it is now, in this moment that I have completely completed my great masterpiece.  Finally, the symbol of man has been made.  The couch, man's life, best friend, bed, and dinner table.  Here, I present to you, the fall of humanity.

Imaginary Dreams

Do I dare hope?  Well, a hope perhaps…a timid dream…Do you think-no- no.  Not possible.  No reason to get hopes up.  But perhaps, maybe, a small chance…

I'm not that awful,  you know, he might like me.  Might.  Perhaps.  A small chance.  An imaginary dream.

Take a chance.  No harm.  No foul,

Just a possibility

There's only one way to find out

Try. 

Ask. 

Be strong.

Stay confident.

Cause what you're talkin about, excuse me, but it seems like it was just a little bit more than an imaginary dream.

Sidewalks in Winter

It's winter.  In winter, snow falls and then has to be cleared away.  Unfortunately, a lot of people are procrastinators and refuse to shovel until a week after it has snowed.  This is very inconvenient for anyone who needs to walk on the sidewalk.

 So, the other night, I had to walk home.  It just so happens that there was a blizzard blustering outside.  There was six inches of snow on the ground, but God forbid anyone shovels their sidewalk.  I didn't know I would have to walk home either, so I wasn't wearing snow boots.  I was wearing my definitely-not-water-proof boots.  I had to trudge through the snow as little puddles formed in the heels of my boots.  It was then when I came upon a glorious sight, someone, some miraculous God, had actually shoveled their sidewalk.  I experienced a few moments of lustrous joy before the clear path ended and I walked in front of a different house.

My point is, you should shovel off your sidewalk.  It's bad enough that some children have to walk home in the cold.  Are you really going to make them walk through the snow too?

The Birds

Author's Note: This piece was inspired by the picture below.  I wrote this piece because I didn't find the horse picture inspiring.  This picture is from http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/12/11/best-photos-2012-year-pictures_n_2277480.html#slide=1863847 they have a ton of really cool and inspiring pictures.

 

They're after us all. 

They want us to die.

In order to live,

We must sacrifice

Give them our beauties

Give them our young

Give them our healthy

Give them our done

Yes, yes.  That's all good.

But what, do tell,

Do we do when they

Start wanting the givers?