The Story of IFThe story of IF.My name is Owen. Ive spent the last seven years working on a new web project called internationalfriend, or IF for short. Internationalfriend is going to be a new global Internet community for people between the ages of 13 and 23. I started on this project in Holland in 2001. Its the country where I was born and grew up, even though my passport says Im English. My mother had died after a long illness and my father bought me the domain internationalfriend.com thinking that it might provide some distraction from the hard time I was going through. Initially, I had no great plans for the website it was more a sort of entertainment for my friends and me. And, as such, it helped me cope with the loss of my mother. However, we did work out a basic concept of what I wanted to create .In 2003, my father met a lovely Norwegian woman and the following year we moved to Oslo. For me, this was the best thing that ever happened in my life.
LavenderThere's a beggar who sits at the corner of the street where I pass everyday. She's old and wrinkled, and a little child usually sits on her lap and calls her grandma. It's freezing this winter, but she's always in this long worn out, crimson gown and a thin head cover, sometimes a knitted, old jacket, but the child wears a pink coat that looks kinda warm. Everyday this woman and child sit through hours of people walking by begging for some money to buy some food.The child is barely four.the woman is possibly sixty, yet she has enough reasons to make the little child laugh, every single day.
circa 2002may, 2013. it's raining. or maybe not. maybe it just rained or is just about to start– i never really know, can't pinpoint exactly what's happening, can't hold space in my hands. but i know that my mother is a drunk.i am sixteen and my heart is pounding; i just smoked my last cigarette and i can taste it in between my teeth, my hands are wet. it's raining. maybe. i'm crying, i'm not, i am sixteen and surviving. he stands by the bridge, his hands resting on the guard rail. i ask him if it's raining, i'm never sure and he knows that, but he doesn't hear me and kisses me instead. never just a peck. always warm, welcoming, teeth-clicking kisses. his breath tastes the way poems do: bitter/like smoke/little words eating at your fucking burns/vodka? are you drunk it wasn't a question. i was all out
A story about a storySix words only. A full story.
Jem The story Chapter 4 - The Break-UpChapter 4The Break-UpIt was 11pm when Jem and the Holograms stepped up onto the stage by the series of four steps embedded in to the wall and Jem took the microphone and said,Ladies and Gentlemen, Thank you all for coming. Are you all enjoying yourselves?” she began when everyone cheered.“Now I am pleased to announce that Jem and the Holograms will be going on a new World Tour starting here in LA then progressing to Miami, Washington before flying to Ireland, Wales, Scotland, England, Spain, Greece and then we be finishing in the Aztec world of Mexico” explained Jem and the Holograms.“Thank you for coming and please have a safe trip home” said Kimber and the other Holograms as they walked off stage.Once off stage, Jem looked at the clock which read 11:30 and turned to Rio.She stood nearby him and said,“Rio can I have a word in Jerrica’s office please?” she asked.“Sure Jem” replied Rio as the two left the other Hologra
Red Cross AcademyChapter 1: HostilityRick Reaper was starting his first year at the red cross academy he didn’t know why his parents were sending him to this school, or why he had to set off so early in the damn morning to catch the school bus. However while he was waiting he saw his companion the actual Grim Reaper appear. ‘Hey Ricky how are ya?’ The king of the dead laughed. ‘I’m being sent to this boarding school Red Cross Academy.’ He growled the grim reaper floated a bit closer. ‘That place is really hard to get into so there will barely be anyone there you’re so lucky.’ He mocked transforming into a skeleton dog dressed in a black cloak.A chill then went through Rick’s spine as a huge black carriage pounded towards him at full pelt. The driver then pulled back the reins until the carriage stopped in front of him. ‘Rick Reaper?’ The driver hissed Rick was scared of the raspy and creepy voice, from the diver but answered.
What can I do to make Today more beautiful?I'm going to open my eyes todayAnd say "Today is beautiful."
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