moha13

 For the seven- hundred and thirty-first time, Adalia Edith braided her lengthy, dark hair over the top of her head and into a long single braid, which she then twirled into a bun. She pushed pale, pink, pearl earrings through holes in her ears and pulled a black, wool peacoat over her lacy dress. Ms. Edith dug in her pockets for her gloves as she locked the wooden door to her decent sized ground level apartment. It was the perfect picture of wealth. Not that the apartment was one of the most dignified as it wasn’t monstrous or located in a prestigious district such as the royal district. However, it was on the ground floor. The world

 Life to me was 2 dimensional, although I had always pictured myself to be completely aware of the theme of it all. For me, life was at my own discretion. There were no other variables; I knew my course. The skies were open and beautiful while my destination had lain in sight. Yet, eventually my path collided with another path…or rather twisted, looped, knotted, tangled, skipped, and detonated with many paths. This for a little while could be ignored, like so many other encounters I had previously in my life had been. But these other paths weren’t to be brushed off. Behind these other paths, I found, were travelers with directions o

I tilt my head to the side and wonder if you see me watching you. You're probably too busy doing whatever it is that you do with that notebook that you never let go off. I've always wondered. Are you a poet? A drawer? (as silly as that one sounds) A story writer? What is it that you write in that notebook. You've had it since school started and it's been four months. And ever since the second week of school, and I started noticing you, I've wondered. I've been tempted to ask you several times. Just scoot myself across the picnic table, and ask you. But. I haven't had the courage. My friend Sarah teases me for my obsession with your noteboo