Category: Powerful Prose
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Writing Matters: “Where do you see yourself in five years?”
The topic of “writing” elicits images of strict English teachers staring down their spectacles at wide-eyed students, demanding nothing less than Shakespeare from their young charges. Even experienced wordsmiths encounter angst over transforming their thoughts into artful written compositions. Consequently, many people today eschew writing in favor of vlogs and photo sharing. However, without writing, I would not…
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Moment in the Mud
Once, there was a little pond, and on that little pond was a small flotilla of tiny leaf boats. This was my doing, of course. Eight-year-old me had quite the imagination. Frog catching and worm inspection were also prime time entertainment. During the summer, my dad and I would spend hours in the garden catching…
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The Choice
Dear reader, I want to first acknowledge that there are different situations and conditions that can prevent us from being happy all the time. All of us have felt it. With that said, I firmly believe that in most situations, we have the choice to be happy—and this is a story about choosing happiness and…
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One Guy’s Lawnmower is Another Guy’s Future
It sat on the corner. Out of the bag poked a slender, broken, metallic arm reaching for freedom. I had seen it a couple of weeks before, hardly a stone’s throw from the church building. I watched, waiting for it to be claimed. A short two years before, I had started the adolescent ritual of…
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Finding Words
July. Words are funny. You know what they mean, but you don’t truly know what they mean. A lot of words are flitting around the house today. Twins. Premature. NICU. Overdose. Accidental. I didn’t even know my cousin was pregnant. Gwen’s not my cousin exactly. My dad’s cousin’s daughter, but that doesn’t matter. Not now,…
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The Sweatshirt
A frigid blast of wind slashed my face, and I shivered, pulling my sweatshirt tighter around me. Despite the crisp, cold air, the June sun shone brilliantly, making the slick mountain ice glitter like diamonds. I could hear the other girls’ teeth chattering as we struggled up the mountain. By the time we stopped, they…