Golden lights cast long shadows across her face and on her smile, sweet like cinnamon. Her fingers encased in his grip and her eyes fawning over him. A look I haven’t seen since Waterhouse. She was fucking cheating on me. What do you do now? For 10 years, we laughed and talked about how many kids we wanted, whether we wanted to live in the suburbs or the country, how many pets–not that it matters anymore. We met in my junior year of UW, I was a hopeful art student and she was a hospitality major. I was at my first frat party and became a little too inebriated to drive home and she was nice enough to help me out. After that she was there for everything; the long hauls of studying, decorating our apartment, buying our first car. Then
He ran his soft hands over my lower back and moved them down to caress my legs, this sending movement through my upper calves. Being so close to him was ticklish, yet pleasurable… Evolving me to wince at every touch. The pleasurable side almost always overcomes the tingling ticklish side of being in the arms of someone I cared about so much. Just the thought of him- the way his smile lit up his whole face, and how he only smiled that way around me. We spent a lot of time squandering about, but every moment afterwards left you wanting more. When I wasn’t with him, my mind traveled to him. The thought of being surprised that his feelings were mutual had always stuck out. All of his charisma, and quirkiness piled together to make him. Being himself,
The man leaned towards her, his coffee colored strands of hair catching the sun. He gave her his best smoldering look, willing her to fall for his charm. "Forbidden love."
She could not help but watch; something about him still drew her to him. Christopher Andrews took the woman into his arms, leaned her back so that her head faced toward Allie, and then kissed her long, and hard; however, his eyes were looking into Allie’s as he did. The kiss was so intense that Allie could almost feel his mouth on
I looked forward to our time together and our relationship grew quickly. She loved to paint, read, and surprise me with her paintings. She encouraged me to work harder in school and to try new things rather than doing the same things day after day. Consequently, last year I took Painting I and
Nowadays I barely see her. We both grew up, she’s married with kids and I’m close to graduating high school. It’s crazy how time flies.
Her always gleaming eyes had a hint of lust adding to her attractiveness. Something had broken her innocent and pure exterior leaving behind an amorous yet lewd girl. She once more kissed me before leaving me unsatisfied against the door of my bedroom. "Get dressed. "
No place in my fifth-teen years have compared to it. The wonderful sound of the rippling water that is reflecting sunlight into my eyes on a warm day can’t be beat. Sitting on the deck balcony that could overlook the lake, the cool breeze could always enhance my mood. I could see and hear anything from here like the subtle buzz of the jet ski down in the lake. The jet ski created ripples of water behind it which created a v-shape. Branson, MO is a unique and meaningful place to me and my entire family.
She was so nice and kind to me! I remember seeing her for the first time; she leaned over and gave me a big hug! She was so excited and so was I. She made me feel safe in this new place I had never been before except for once. The first thing I had to do was look for my desk.
I met her in the autumn right after she had taken a terrible fall going to her mailbox and I was hired by her family as an in home aide. Her name was Jane* and she became a fast friend and provided me with never to be forgotten lessons that cant be taught within the walls of a school. Jane took the time to prove to me that I was worth loving and showed me unconditional love that at the time I couldn’t find. In the end all I have left are a few cherished memories, a pearl necklace, and some of the best lessons in life.
Her hands were pretty, with fingers that were plump as her cheeks, and as pale as them. Her nails were delicately trimmed and her polish of choice, light green, made them look like dew dripping from branches. She didn’t move her hands to talk. I did.
Being raised in a small town lower classed city called Cleveland Texas, my goal was to make it out of the rural area. The blue house is what I called my childhood home, even though most of the blue paint was chipped off and you mostly seen wood with a few areas of chipped blue paint. Before, getting to the house you had to go about a half mile down a red dirt clay road before getting to what looked like a small blue shake. Living in the home was a total of ten people, which included myself, mother, father, three siblings and three older cousins that stayed with us at the time. There were three small bedroom that did not include any type of closet, a full sized bed, and two dressers with a small TV with the fat back attached to it. It also had
It was a great morning. I knew I was going to be swimming and spending time on the lake all day, and it was going to be a great Fourth of July. During breakfast, I asked my mom if I could have someone over. She said I could and then we could all go to the fireworks.
I walk up the stairs to go take a shower. Thoughts are literally pounding in my head every step I take. How am I going to unmask the killer when I am not even a detective? What am I going to do? Who is the killer? The thoughts just keep running through my mind on an everlasting loop.
I often wonder what my life would be like if I had taken a different route. I remember the day as if it was yesterday, August 25th, 2006. I was only eight years old when I was separated from my mother. That day was the beginning of my new life with my foreign father and unfamiliar stepmother. Prior to this, the memories I had of my father were very faint; I would only see him once a year when he would come to visit my brother and I. The journey I was about to embark on was not one of a few hours in a car, but overseas. I was leaving the only place I had ever known; the Dominican Republic to come live in Canada. That night, when I got off the plane, I knew my life had changed forever.
Both of my parents are working, so m family is a two income family. Differed from the general idea and the previous research mentioned above, wife should do housework, both father and mother should do house tasks in my family. For me, their division of labor in house seems pretty equal. Usually, my father does (1) cooking for dinner, (2) taking out the trash, (3) cleaning bathroom, and (4) washing dishes while my mother does (1) cooking for breakfast, (2) washing clothes, (3) maintaining a flower bed, and (4) cleaning living room. My younger sister folds up our clothes. Any other tasks are done by who realizes first. Since my parents was working, they hired two housekeepers as domestic outsourcing, “which is paying non-family members to do family-related tasks” (Wade and Ferree, 2014, p. 354) when my sister and I was small. They cared us. After growing up, the biggest sister began to take care of younger siblings. Before I realized the equal division of housework between my father and my mother, almost all house-tasks seem to be done