“Far from my mind was the situation I now find myself engulfed, when the scent of Jasmine flowers that covered the entrance to my parents’ home, waffled towards me as I meandered my way along the dusty avenue, without a care in the world and madly in love with the man who had just asked me to marry him, that my little life would stir such conflict in a country almost five thousand miles away”.
Flower petals dance in the streets as a man carries a bouquet home that will become an elegant surprise for his lover, the sweet perfume of pollen filling the lungs of those passing by. As he turns the corner, a child kneels over a garden of violets, his soiled-hands pouring a crystal stream upon their lavish and delicate colorings. A few blocks down, the man passes a well-accentuated home with a vibrant flower wreath of calla lilies, chrysanthemums, and roses upon its door. He turns, enters this home, and places the bouquet upon the dining room table. Its glorious colors and designs are certain to bring joy upon first glance.
she did not know what was that feeling, the meaning of love was unknown. But on the other hand the respect and loyalty for Mr. Grierson was immovable. That doubt made her make a decision. She made it, and her choice was horrible and great, too, because she did not married with a worker, so she did not dissapointed her father, but on the other hand she did not threw her love away.
She wrapped her finger in a Wet Wipe and got into the driver’s seat dreading the trip home. As the car backed down the lane, she took one last glimpse at the house and added saving the roses to her list. She wanted the sweet fragrance of flowers to fill the rooms at Glendara. To restore the homestead would be a major undertaking.
I woke up that day to the sound a couple talking to each other about right and wrong. I turn to my wife and said “Janice remember when we were that young and naive.” She didn’t reply I assumed she must still be sleeping. I laid back on this old pile of cotton and sheets that we called a bed for the past fifty years. I still had the shoes she made me for our wedding day.
Mama always said I 'm special and I 'm gonna make her proud one day, using all six senses. I used my eyes to watch cars pass by. Using my ears to listen to prostitutes stop to introduce. Smelled a brief of fresh cash out of a Gucci bag. Ugh, what a disgusting taste of his.
The riotous laughing and deafening volume of the music had made the teacups shudder and the walls crumble. A Cantonese folk song had flashed onto the screen, and the male members occupying the room roared out the lyrics; possessed by the copious amounts of rice wine they had consumed. Like a gaggle of geese we giggled together, me situated against the corner, and the performers shamelessly going off pitch against the glare of the bright television set in the karaoke room. The wives smiled with rapture at first, but it grew simultaneously to a chorus of laughter as each voice added to the sound inside the room, which swelled and rose to an ear splitting crescendo with the song’s climax.
With Ulrich and Carina’s wedding over, Joan hoped simpler, less stressful times lay ahead, and sensed his wife and friends felt the same. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to live with some degree of boredom and monotony after having endured such turmoil and strife for the last year? That would be a welcome respite. She prayed the most devastating thing she’d observe during the next several months was an infected boil.
The heart warming look in his eye's that reminded me of who he was in the beginning, was the only reason I stayed. I was lying to myself, feeling sorry for him; blaming myself for the emotional abuse I was enduring. I could see the lost boy in his eyes after all the lies we had fed each other wishing that things could have been different. In the fight of love and war having to face the subconscious relief of finally being able to fearlessly let go of the memory we once had; I conducted the defense with great bravery till all his lies became hopeless melodies, where upon he fled. Turning a harmless peck I had confessed to given to another boy into his new retribution.
Danny’s class was having a show and tell day. Danny couldn’t wait to show Copy to everyone and tell them all about her. “Danny, don’t feed any sweets to Copy!” Master Cake shouted from the kitchen. Danny stopped his search for Copy and asked, “Why not?”
First of all, I will like to thank many of the people who supported me to get all the way to here. If my friends, family, has stopped me from taking this risk, I would not be able to stand here right now. My parents allowed me to still get educated and tried to get closer to my dreams. My friends never made me the negative thought, in which that opposing to Taliban is not impossible. I cannot explain words how I really appreciate to these people.
It finally happened, January 31st, 2016, Darvelle Levy got down on one knee and popped the most important question I will ever be asked,"Will you marry me. "Of course I responded yes, its about damn time. lol. I have been waiting since last June for him to officially pop the question. So, we have been happily engaged for four months.
As I sit here inside of a red, elegant, and sparkling tent woven with an abundant amount of lights, I think about my future. To the left of me, I hear aunties gossiping about what her daughter did. They had such vivid details you would think they were CNN reporters. To the right of me, I hear uncles trying to hit on aunties. I hear remarks that would get me shunned for saying out loud and I hear comments that would disappoint their scrawny malnourished children.