Creative Writing Final

1. I've done a number of writing pieces this year. We followed different writing prompts and subjects of inspiration for writing for each of our pieces. For example, the art works of Edward Hopper were a subject of writing during both posting online and journal writing for us. From his painting Soir Bleu, which depicts a clown sitting at a table with two men in a cafe of normally dressed people, I wrote the short story "Never Challenge the Clown" which details a pair of men encountering a gang boss dressed as a clown for Halloween and posted it online. Journal writing included as collecting as many details about the different Hopper paintings we were presented with as possible. We used dreams as inspiration for our writing, with me posting "Musings on Dreams" to answer various questions about dreams, such as whether or not dreams have any meanings. We used holidays to write as well. Halloween was a time when we used spooky first sentence prompts to create stories. Using these writing prompts I posted "Dullahan and the Fire Sprite" which tells the story of a girl dressed as a headless horseman meeting a fire sprite and protecting it from evil spirits on Halloween, and "Beauty is Painful" which is a short horror story describing the narrator's horrific encounter with a vengeful doll. The very beginning of the year featured me describing myself in my posted "I Am Katie" poem, and posting a short story, "The Seahorse Lighter" after being inspired by a lighter with a seahorse on it on the website listing special objects that Mrs. Fraser had us look at. We also used old photos as inspiration to post stories. When I wrote "Snapshot of the 1920s", about a day in the life of a young man spending time with a date and his brothers, I was inspired by an old black and white photograph of three men together, one sitting the others standing. When we were using colors as inspiration, a paint color named was used for my acrostic poem "Periwinkle Charmed"  in which I described a young mother's encounter with her newborn sleeping son. In independent journal writing, I mainly wrote short excerpts of possible stories, such as recording an event in which time freezes for a character in a park. I also used the journal as a way to write an excerpt where a fairy was disgruntled that a human had stolen a small pumpkin of its, after I found a small green plant bulb shaped like a pumpkin on a nature walk our class took. Taylor Denton's funny, inspiring, and sweet comments in many of my posts were something I appreciated very much, and I enjoyed commenting on her pieces as well.

2. In our class, I read many of Taylor Denton's blog posts, and I especially enjoyed her "If I Were in Charge of the World" Poem, because I appreciate her distaste for ignorance and prejudice she writes within it. Her piece of "Finally Fading Away" was very eerie for me, as it chillingly described a person simply ceasing to exist for those around him, and yet still being aware of everything around them. From her narration of that piece, I felt sympathy and horror for the person who had faded from the world, and wondered how such a thing could happen.  I also appreciated Glenda Parson's "In a Wondrous World of Color" because I appreciated her unusual idea of colors being depicted as divided  factions from each other, and the realistic longing of the narrator for wanting a different lot in life, and yet being grateful for not having it worst by being in a worst color area of the world. I also appreciated her haiku of different types of chocolate, because I  found it endearing.  Outside of reading classmate's blogs, I finished two books of the "Skulduggery Pleasant" series, which tells the story of a witty, fire-throwing, detective, sorcerer skeleton. I also read many classics, such as "Wuthering Heights" and "Jane Eyre, which I appreciated for the romance depicted within each, the outspoken and awesome heroine that is Jane Eyre, the gorgeous writing style of each, and the interesting depiction of the time period. I began reading "Winter" the final book of the "Lunar Chronicles" which is a twisted fairy-tale and science-fiction series based around a cyborg version of Cinderlla-the mechanic Cinder.

3. I deeply enjoyed setting up my blog. Since I love the color pink, but didn't want something childish I chose a pattern that employs pinks, reds, and oranges in what I thought was an artful presentation for the background. I placed a picture of a cherry blossom tree at the bottom of the page because I think cherry blossoms are beautiful and I appreciate that they mean "new beginnings" in the language of flowers. Since I have a soft spot for baby animals, I placed the daily puppy gadget in a corner of my page, and I posted a list of my favorite reading material below this since I believed it would be appropriate for a blog in which you post creative writing. I came up with the blog name by incorporating my own name, adding in "queen" to sound majestic or ironic, and put in "bookworm" as so much of my writing is inspired and improved upon by reading books. The people who would want to read this post must enjoy fantasy and adventure, as so many of my posts are short stories of those genres. I will probably continue to use this blog in the future, and I will continue posting fantasy short stories, poetry, or brainstormed story ideas on the page. From creating a blog I learned more about gaining feedback from readers, I learned more about personalizing webpages, and I was given a rewarding experience by putting my work out with confidence for others to see.

4. My journal was something I kept often in class, or in times of leisure when I was not currently working on a different project. Within it are short excerpts of stories I created, venting about issues I was upset about, poetry I thought of suddenly, and class assignments like the colored mandala and magazine collages. It also contains many beginnings of blog posts like the "Famous First and Last Lines", where I wrote a short one-shot about a jealous wife using the first line of "Pride and Prejudice" and the last line of "To the Lighthouse." I talked about my thoughts on God, paintings we were shown in class, and objects I found around the school as well, and the things I was thankful for. I would want my friends, family, and loved ones to read my journal

because I know they would entertained or touched by what I wrote. I will continue to journal, and I will certainly be writing my own feelings and story ideas in the future.

5. The first thing she noticed was the cap. A cold, grey, thing, off her canister of coffee. However, the odd thing she noticed, was the drips of coffee on its side, refusing motion like they had frozen there despite the sweltering weather. Her head pounded with every secession of blood circulated by her heart. The girl leaped to her feet and spun around to survey silent surroundings. The man there on the other park bench was paused mid-sneeze. His face was contorted humorously. However, nothing was humorous about the situation. Birds were suspended in air like Christmas ornaments without strings. With dread the girl forced herself to check the old-fashioned watch on her wrist. Both of the timepiece's hands were frozen.

"Oh no. It's begun." The girl murmured, as if not to disturb the world's peace.
Time had stopped.

-I wrote this piece after a friend of mine overseas sent me a cool picture of her canister lid full of coffee reflecting the sun and trees above it. She said she had a title for the picture "Time in a Bottlecap" and as a result I began thinking about a scenario in which time really was captured as if it was in a bottle cap, but the person who noticed it only did so after noticing the canister lid.

6. “Alice, leave me, you know I have business in the Layers below.” Arianna growled, inwardly shivering at the fate of those who tried to wander in the Veil longer than they should.

“You could take me with you.” Alice cooed sweetly. Arianna shook her head, while her dark eyes flashed with a warning. When Alice took a step closer, she quickly drew the blade of blue shimmering metal from her boot. For a moment Alice’s face morphed into a glittering mask of furious hatred before being replaced with the same fake grin that had been there before.

“Well, you don’t have to be so mean about it! I wouldn’t be that much of a bother!” The young woman sighed as she vanished within the dark again, fading just as she had appeared.

 Taking a privately shaky breath, Arianna sheathed her blade, and continued walking through the dark.

She felt the tightness of her stress leave her skull when the warm light fell on her face. Arianna had done this many times before but that did nothing to lessen the relief she always felt upon surfacing inside or outside the veil. It was always the traversing that was the most terrifying part, but now that she was within the soul she sought, at least the dangers of the Veil were past.

7.  In the future, I intend to continue writing short stories for my own enjoyment and to entertain others, and I may attempt to create a fictional novel some day. I would love to write creatively for a traveling guide or a traveler's magazine as I enjoy recording my interesting experiences. I get the chance to escape from reality through creative writing, as in a story, you have no obligations to meet, no restrictions on yourself, because you can choose what you want to occur next. From creative writing, I gain the ability to entertain readers when they laugh at my stories, or touch them emotionally if I make them unsettled or sad. I also gain the ability to create something from creative writing, as nobody else has written these words exactly as I have before. I enjoy all of these things from creative writing, and I enjoy that through creative writing I can gain an outlet for my emotions or record my personal experiences for future remembrance.

8. To everybody I've had the pleasure of being in this class with:

Never let anything stop you from being yourself and expressing yourself as you are. Never deny the beauty of your own self and talents. You are a wonderful writer and a wonderful person and it would be a shame not to show the world that. If you choose to continue writing creatively, your ideas will be interesting and inspiring for others to read, as a connection through writing is something everyone can attain. I wish you good fortune, happiness, laughter, and powerful friendships now and for all time, and I'm glad to know that whatever you will be, you'll be a good one. 

Writing as a Gift-Poem for C

Separated across seas live we
But I met you
And you met me

Sunday calls with a goofy blonde
are times I cherish when
over anime, Doctor Who and life we bond

I tease you, at twenty, that you're old
Yet you have gray-hair, person who turned eighteen
You say to me, so bold

We dream of meeting in a distant place
Be it with a huge statue of Lincoln
Or when you visit a town where in the voice "eh?' leaves a trace

You draw cool pictures of cyborgs, wail over exams, blush over Bart
I yammer about books, forget One Piece, tell you about dances with friends
It's been wonderful to talk with you and listen to you, since the start

You laugh with me, at me, and comfort me too
One of my best friends you are
I'm so happy that in those comments I met you

Merry Christmas, Happy Sinterklaas, and a New Year
Now get out, and go enjoy yourself a beer

Revision #2-One-shot of an Astra-Traveler

Arianna walked through the dark, her hood obscuring her dark eyes and round face while she wandered through the smoke. It was only a matter of time she knew, before she would surface and come through the Veil. Now though, this was her purgatory. Her surroundings were an obsidian darkness tapered with swirling white smoke and fog perfuming her face with a scent of nothingness. Her silent footsteps ached to echo but were denied that ability. It was a purgatory all astral-travelers faced she knew, and so she felt no fear. Those who walked through the soul as she did could have no lack of courage, or they may never surface with their own beings intact.

A bright voice broke the darkness, “Arianna, it’s so wonderful to see you!”

Arianna’s eyes instantly narrowed, recognizing the voice as she turned to meet the one standing behind her. Her lips formed a very thin line as she beheld the one in front of her. A slim girl of 16, but wearing the blue dress and apron of a child, the child the poor woman still tried to exude, while failing miserably. Once her hair had been honey-blonde but now it was a sickly corn-silk color, and her face was awash with a pale hue. The other wanderer smiled in a falsely innocent manner while she put a hand to her cheek.

“Alice, leave me, you know I have business in the Layers below.” Arianna growled, inwardly shivering at the fate of those who tried to wander in the Veil longer than they should.

“You could take me with you.” Alice cooed sweetly. Arianna shook her head, while her dark eyes flashed with a warning. When Alice took a step closer, she quickly drew the blade of blue shimmering metal from her boot. For a moment Alice’s face morphed into a glittering mask of furious hatred before being replaced with the same fake grin that had been there before.

“Well, you don’t have to be so mean about it! I wouldn’t be that much of a bother!” The young woman sighed as she vanished within the dark again, fading just as she had appeared.

 Taking a privately shaky breath, Arianna sheathed her blade, and continued walking through the dark.

She felt the tightness of her stress leave her skull when the warm light fell on her face. Arianna had done this many times before but that did nothing to lessen the relief she always felt upon surfacing inside or outside the veil. It was always the traversing that was the most terrifying part, but now that she was within the soul she sought, at least the dangers of the Veil were past.

Gabriel, her best friend, was waiting for her as she walked towards him through the sunny meadow. He flashed her a bright grin that could reassure even the grimmest of individuals and she felt more relief than before. He was all right. For now, they were both safe, until it was time to traverse back. Now it was time for their mission.

There were ten kinds of Curses that Arianna had studied and combated all these years. They were unleashed from a soul that had ceased to be that of a human’s-coming from the sort of people who became evil in the physical world.

Her stomach tightened as the Curse turned from the creaking piano to smile. Oh, strength to her. An Envy Curse. She hated this kind, the ones who simpered at the creator’s soul, telling them to claw at a life that wasn’t theirs to have. It disgusted Arianna. Apparently, the person whose soul they had traversed to, a talented and famous pianist, was filled with envy for her new rival's attention from the media. How pathetic.

But then, all Curses brought about the dregs of humanity. Just as goodness brought the Curses’ fall. Besides being her best friend, she was glad to have Gabriel at her side as a Traverser for another reason. A heart such as his was difficult to claw at. Such musings brought Arianna back to a different time.

In her first lesson as a child, a girl who appeared to be no older than thirteen, but with ancient eyes, had stood at the front of the lyceum's class.

Arianna had been eight when she had started her training, but even then she knew this young girl could not be just what she seemed. Not if she would be teaching the first lesson.

"My name is Oriandi." Had been what the gentle voice said. Small for a thirteen-year-old's stature, warm brown eyes, long brown hair in braids that fell just past her shoulders. Unremarkable, a fool would think. A wise person would be either curious or wary.

 

One by one Oriandi had addressed the new students, pressed her hand to a palm, said something to them softly. When Oriandi stopped at Arianna, she smiled kindly. Arianna was uncertain what to think. The older girl pressed a hand to her palm.

"A warrior's heart. Your strengths are against Apathy, Cowardice, and Deception. I look forward to seeing that strength blossom." Oriandi had told her. She pointed over to Gabriel, who watched them with wide eyes.

"I understand you've befriended that boy.  That is good. He is strong against Hatred, and Selfishness." Arianna had become confused at the time.

"I don't know him." She had replied, Oriandi had looked confused for a moment as well, before understanding passed over her eyes.

"Ah, not yet then. It can be difficult to tell." The older girl had walked off towards the students still waiting for her attentions, leaving Arianna utterly befuddled.

Over the years that followed, Arianna had noticed Oriandi once drawing a picture of Gabriel falling down and spilling his lunch all over the floor. An hour later it had happened, and Arianna began to understand her mysterious mentor a little better. Yet she had so many questions for her still. For example, why eight years after the first day they met, did she still look thirteen?

Arianna had yet to receive an answer, not even when she asked as Oriandi dispatched them to deal with this curse. At this remembrance, Arianna was brought back to reality.

She drew her blade from her boot, and was aware Gabriel had drawn his sworn. The Curse hissed at them in a thin, dry voice.

"It's mine, it's all mine! The stage is mine!"

The young traversers charged.

Revision #3-The Daily Stargazer

PENTAGON PLEDGES SUPPORT

a news piece by Elixia Ashla

Year Printed: Juno 9th, 2102

The scene yesterday was hectic in the United States Pentagon, Earth(Proud members of the United Worlds Union). Various military officials had gathered this day for a momentous decision that would be recorded in our history programs. The Grand Dyet of the f-class planet Aspiria and the leaders of the planet f-planet Shreedo had arrived to negotiate an alliance with the t-class planet Earth's military officials. The Argons of Aspiria as well as Shreedo's Grogons have been repeatedly threatened and pressured by the slowly approaching Martian Empire. For twenty-four earth-years the Earthlings have acted as a blockade against the Martians for much of the galaxies, their chief allies being the Venusians of their planetary cousin Venus.

As the Earthlings are the galaxies' defense force the Argons and Grogons sought their help in defending their home from the tyrannical Martian King, Cagnox. Cagnox's goal has been for much of his two-hundred and fifty earth-year life span to gain greater territories and raw materials for his already considerable empire. Martians are well known for harvesting the heat of planets' cores for their own life and city support systems, hence their desire for a large empire. Controlling all past his home planet and the strangely named 'Milky Way' Galaxy's asteroid belt he is a considerable foe to all who oppose him. All planets in the opposite direction of Mars, and the galaxies beyond are guarded by Earth, and since their first encounter in the year 2078 they have prevented further Martian expansion in such a direction. Therefore, Cagnox has turned his gaze, elsewhere, in this case to Aspiria and its neighbor Shreedo.

The negotiations lasted for hours, particularly on the subject of arming the Earthlings with Argon's weaponry. As Argons are sentient-gas beings, they can only use gaseous poisons against the Martians, which could also be deadly to Earthlings when released. Ultimately a solution was reached through the containment technology of Shreedo that was capable of holding Argon poison. After much deliberating the officials were kept waiting with bated breath for the final decision of Earth's government and military.

The Pentagon, Earth's military capital, pledged support to the Argons and Grogons and to take them on as their allies in the war against the Martian Empire. There was much rejoicing on all sides, although much speculation on what this would mean for the future of the war efforts. The Martian Empire has yet to deliver a response to this bold declaration of alliance.

Pictured Below: Grogon President Enment and Earthling General Marshall

General Marshall is quoted as saying of the Martian-Earthling Conflict "This is the greatest challenge of our time, and the greatest challenge we will overcome."

Meli merely shook his head in response to this, and closed the hologram compact, shutting the news out. The proud Grogon was wondering about what this could all mean for him. His life-mate had evacuated with their childlings, and that left him alone in the Self-Defense Unit on their planet. He would fight to his last breath to save his planet from Martian Rule, but he had never encountered a human before. Would they become tyrants when the Martians were vanquished? At least he knew the Argons,  who were subdued creatures that sought only isolation from other species and the preservation of their culture.

The Grogon being looked up at the roar of rockets touching down upon the soil of his world. Fine white sand across the vast plains, with the three moons Arrs, Terrace, and Yiloh suspended high above his proud white grown in the sky. On the distant horizon, formations of tall violet spires signaled the nearest city, and the violet spires were adorneIt d with small orange star rose vines. His people were probably praying to Kerchek, the Protector, to defend both him and his brothers. Meli loved his home and all its beauty.

 His entire body was white like a moon's crater, tough skin protecting him from harsh weather, which was common here. His hands and feet has 6 fingers and 8 toes per foot respectively, and his Pink eyes had a third eyelid that protected his eyes and improved his vision at night. 

He stood in formation with his 9 brothers, the greeting party for this first grouping of humans to arrive. His vision became intense for a moment, so much that he could count every grain of sand and every small figure in the spires to the west. Then it faded back to normal vision. It was a normal occurrence for Grogons, their vision heightened when they were tense. It was a survival mechanism. He heard one of his brothers gasp a prayer when the ship opened.

A single being stood on the landing platform. It (Meli felt bad for calling the human an it, but he had no way of telling if the human was male or female) had skin that looked soft and not at all tough like a Grogon's. The skin was beautiful and dark, and the being raised its (single, Meli noted) head and drew its lips back. Grogon realized with shock it was showing teeth. Not unlike the creatures of the wild. He had never met a sentient creature that had teeth. Was it showing its teeth because it felt threatened? It wore a strange green set of garments, over its arms and torso, as well as its legs. Something was on its feet too, but he had no reference for what it was. There seemed to be some kind of darkly colored moss on the human's head as well, which was completely bizarre.

It said a single word, which Grogon brother raised a translator to explain.

The human had said "Salutations."

Revision #1-Snapshot of Life in the 1920's

Newkirk, Connecticut, 1923.

Residence of the McConell family.

Flash! 27-year-old Andrew McConell blinked his eyes rapidly. The minute the photographer lowered his camera, his little brother Michael was tearing out of the room. He was a young pup of 21 years, always up to something and constantly jittering like he'd drank 12 cups of coffee. Of course, his little brother was the only person Andrew knew who was insane enough to do something like consume that much caffeinated brew.

"Shouldn't you at least change first?" Andrew called after him, as he raced from the room.

"No time, give Nancy a kiss for me!" Michael replied. Andrew stiffened at this, and replaced his expression with the thin-lipped mask his father also wore when he was reminded of something displeasing. The eldest brother stood up from his chair, and cast a glance at his other brother standing to his right. Of the three of them, James was the one who looked most distinguished in a suit, fitting as the 25-year-old wanted to be a college professor. After his tenure traveling Europe to study foreign languages, that is. Yes, both of his little brothers had big dreams.

Andrew sighed. If only the same could be said of him.

"I really don't get why Father said we had to take our picture today of all days, he knew Michael had that autoshow he's been raving about seeing. Not to mention our dates with Anne and Nancy tonight."

James was perpetually criticizing their father, but only as retaliation for the constant badgering their father gave him in turn. The wealthy businessman that he was, Andrew McConell Sr. wasn't too fond of the idea that his second son would rather study than make big bucks. He often muttered about how James should get a real job rather than spend all his time as a student at college.

For all his knowledge however, James was a bit socially unaware. Andrew reflected upon this as he crossed up the stairs of their house to change into a slightly less formal suit for the picture show tonight. For example, braniac Jamie had absolutely no idea that Anne was completely uninterested in him, and only went with him on dates because she liked moving picture shows.

Combing his hair in the mirror, Andrew was privately glad of this, because Anne was the flighty sort who would drag whatever man she married around on wild goose chases. He frowned at this remembrance. No way would he let Anne do that to his little brother should she suddenly take a genuine shine to James.

Then there was the matter of Nancy...Andrew wasn't sure if he wanted to join James in obliviousness to his date's feelings. She was 27, same age as him. Lovely as they came with long blonde hair and grey-blue eyes. His heart pounded and butterflies fluttered in his stomach when he remembered her breathtaking smile. She wasn't just Andrew's date, but his fiancé. The matter was, he had no idea if she actually loved him sometimes. Nance was incredibly warm one minute, and cold the next. He just didn't understand it.

Andrew glanced at the clock. 5'o clock. The girls were being dropped off.

Just now, Nance's father was walking into the house, with Nancy and Anne at his side. Andrew walked down the stairs and offered a warm smile at his fiancé.

"Hi, Nancy." He greeted.

"Hi." She replied shortly.

Andrew's smile vanished. It was cold Nancy tonight.

James came to stand at the foot of the stairs beside him. Michael burst in through the dining room door.

"Andrew, James! You wouldn't believe the new engines I saw, they were amazing! And-Oh, hi girls." Michael grinned at the ladies. He had oil smudged on his incredibly expensive suit, Andrew noticed with pain.

Nancy smiled at the 21-year-old.

"Hi, Michael."

"You four had better get going, and have them back by 8'o clock, gentlemen." Nancy's father winked at Andrew approvingly.  

With that, Andrew put an arm around Nancy and started leading the way.

"...You think tonight's show'll be good?" He asked, trying to start a conversation.

"...Yeah. Andy?"

"Yeah?"

"...I need to talk to you later."

Andrew blinked.

"About what?"

Nancy refused to meet his eyes.

 

That refusal to meet his eyes resounded in Andrew's mind all the way to the picture show, and all throughout it. It made his palms go sweaty, and he felt frustrated with not knowing. 

Finally, he had reached the pinnacle of his endurance, and without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed Nancy's hand. James raced an eyebrow but said nothing, as Andrew led his fiance outside. Nancy did nothing to protest.

"Nance, it's later now, please. What's wrong?" His pleading almost seemed to wound Nancy as she looked down. 

"Andrew...I can't. We can't. It's just-ugh-" She raised a hand to her forehead. In the dark corner of the theater lobby she could've been a painting.

"What do you mean?" Andrew's voice was a whisper. His heart seemed to plummet through his chest down to his stomach, where it lodged and did the can-can.

"There's somebody else." She finally managed to get out. The can-can ceased. Andrew's head cleared.

"Really, now?" He asked, no emotion to his voice. "Anyone I know?" He was shocked that he wasn't furious or heartbroken, just numb.

"I don't want to tell you."

"Why not? I've been thinking you didn't love me for awhile now...You can hurt me, but I can never hurt you." Andrew noticed Nancy wilt under the revelation he'd had his suspicions for a while. But she straightened suddenly. She seemed bold for a moment. Who knew what was going through her mind in those moments?

"It's Michael." Andrew stared. Then he stared. Then he stared some more.

"No." He said.

"Yes, I love him. He doesn't know me, but I want the chance to at least pursue him. I'm sure he'll like me if he really gets to know me." Nancy declared assertively.

At this, Andrew felt his anger begin to rise for the first time. 

"No." He said again.  The young man crossed his arms over his chest.

"Nancy, you can chase any man you want, you can choose someone other than me. You know your own mind and you know what you want, I've known that since the first day we met. But not Michael." Andrew scowled.

"Why not? Are you jealous I'd choose him over you?" Nancy asked, her temper beginning to flare when Andrew told her this.

"That's not it at all!" Her fiance retorted. Her expression became the picture of surprise. The eldest McConnell brother took a deep breath. He now felt furious over her almost entitled attitude regarding his little brother. It wasn't that she wanted to pursue a man rather than be pursued, that didn't bother him. Everybody deserved a chance to find love after all. When he spoke again, Andrew's volume had dropped.

"Michael is practically a kid, he's 6 years younger than you and more wide-eyed about the world than anybody. Also, you know he doesn't think of you as anything but a big sister. You think you can just butt into his dreams and his world? He's a happy person, but I know him, and nothing would make him more miserable than having someone like him when he didn't like that girl back. You know how guilty he'd feel?" Andrew asked, and Nancy glared at him, not bothering to answer. His protectiveness wasn't waning either.

"If you decide to chase after my brother anyway, I want you to leave him alone at the first rejection. You will leave him alone, and be cheerful in his presence, you won't have him feeling awful by acting like you have the worst broken heart ever. There's plenty of people in the world that you could choose from, so I won't let you act like a gloomy little girl around him." With this final declaration, Andrew spun on his heel and returned to the theater, leaving red-faced Nancy behind fuming.

He sat down hard beside James. Anne stared at him curiously.

"Lover's quarrel?" James asked softly. 

"Engagement's off." Andrew said hotly. 

The car ride home was very tense, and Nancy's father cast an odd look at the angry expression on Nancy's face when he came to pick her up. 

Andrew sat on the stairs, head in his hands. It was only now the sadness sank in. Not soul-crushing grief, but a melancholy that chilled his bones. It was simply a sad situation.

He felt something soft brush his leg and he looked up. Anne's dress had brushed him when she sat down next to him. She was still waiting for her ride, since it was agreed Nancy's dad would drop them off but he would let Anne's father pick her up.

"I'm sorry about Nancy." She said. "Could you use a friendly ear?" For once she didn't have a daydreaming expression, and her eyes looked sharp and thoughtful. Andrew was surprised by her sincere concern. 

"Sure, thanks Anne."

"...You know, I know you're aware that I don't really like James. He's very nice, but I don't think our personalities match up. Besides, I don't think he really likes me either."  She commented lightly. Her stair-sitting companion shook his head and laughed quietly at her candid nature.

"Yeah." He said. 

"You know I won't hurt him though, right?" Anne asked carefully.

Andrew was surprised again at her sharp tone. Her glistening eyes were sincere though, as she waited for his answer.

"No, I don't think you will." Andrew decided, giving her a steady gaze. Perhaps he had misjudged Anne all this time.

"Nancy's a nice girl, with a great spirit. It's good that she's such a go-getter. But she's so passionate that she doesn't think all the time but feels." Anne continued on now, giving voice to her thoughts, almost soliloquizing. 

"Mm-hmm. That's why I don't want her going after Michael. She'd make him all twisted up inside if she showed how sad she was when he didn't like her. I know Michael, and right now women just aren't his focus. He's told me as much." Andrew sighed. Anne showed her surprise that Nancy decided she liked the youngest McConnell brother, but nodded in agreement at this assessment of her two friends.

"I probably shouldn't have got so mad." Andrew muttered. 

"Probably not." Anne agreed. 

"I'll apologize, but she knows how I feel about everything. I meant what I said. If Michael changes his mind and gives her a chance, fine, but she better not upset him if the answer is no."

Anne nodded thoughtfully.

"Is your heart broken?"

"Truthfully? No. I liked her, and I'm sad, and I want to get married, but it was mainly Father and Nancy's dad who wanted us together." The eldest of the three brothers stared over at the grandfather clock in the living room.

"Well, I guess we both just have to wait to find the right person." Anne stared up at the ceiling. Suddenly, a thought occurred to Andrew.

"You aren't interested in me, are you?" He asked worriedly. Anne burst out laughing and his concern melted. He grinned now too.

"No, no. You're very nice too Andrew, but your personality is way too much like a father's for my taste." They could hear the honk of a car as Anne's father pulled up in front of the house. Anne stood up.

"How about friends?" She asked, offering a hand to shake on it.

Andrew took it and shook. He spent so much time inside his head, was quiet so often, it was nice to find someone who was willing to listen.

"Friends." He replied.

Twilight Baking

Fresh fine white powder fell through the slits of my intertwined fingers. It was twilight, the time between the moon's departure, and the sun's arrival. A table full of crucial ingredients sat to the side.

No, we weren't making crack. Although what we were making was as addictive as the drug. The smell of fresh butter and sugar intermingled with the fresh scent of something not unlike cut celery. I wet my lips in anticipation.

Zucchini Bread. 

The common delicacy would drive men to murder in desire of it, if made through my mother's recipe. Everyone in the family adored its taste.

My older sister was standing off to one side, shredding the zucchini that filled the air with that fresh scent. I had just finished sifting flour and was now packing brown sugar into a measuring cup. As expected I did this all proudly in my ridiculously frilly and flowery pink apron Mom had made for me. Sis had merely rolled her eyes when I'd pulled it out of the drawer in the kitchen.

With our parents away on a trip for the night, my sister and I were responsible for ourselves. I, being one of those rare kids who actually likes to sleep in on Christmas and breathed fire at the older sister who insisted we wake at 5 am to open gifts, had been no more pleased to have been awakened during this ordinary grouping of the wee hours.

"Whu-?" I'd groaned, my hair tousled from my peculiar sleep habit of encasing myself in blankets like meat in a burrito.

"I need zucchini bread." The only explanation was blunt.

 It was 3 in the morning. My sister was one of those people who like to act on her odd spontaneous notions, and a night owl to boot. I usually got dragged along for the ride, but I didn't complain because it was almost always fun.

My sister and I dumped the ingredients into a huge bowl, and the mixer shrieked with hideous ferocity while its beaters whirled hypnotically. We took turns mixing the concoction of ingredients that would taste awful is unbaked, but magical as a warm loaf. Baking was, after all, only common magic.

We cut through the God-sent bread with a simple butter knife; an equal portion adorned each plate.

Nutmeg brown, with flecks of dark cinnamon spice and chocolate throughout. Little flecks of emerald baked just under the warm, steaming glazed surface. Little holes in the bread breathed a delicious, warm, smell while butter melted into liquid gold and soaked into the slice.

"This, was an awesome idea." I murmured around a full mouth as we occupied the sofa. Some late night rerun of Merlin was running on television we sat across from. Its pale light illuminated our faces, and the crumbs on them.

"Yeah, I know." My sister replied smugly.

Photo 1998

This is missing teeth and teeth yet to arrive-a tiny girl and a tinier girl cuddled on a bench in their fall clothes.
This is a jean jacket, red tights, and a floral dress with hair bow.

This is a cheesy but genuine smile, innocent eyes, and round faces-round from being fed on canned ravioli and gentle love.

This is before I can remember places and events, before I stopped calling her sissy, before I knew more about this girl besides 'I love you.'

This is a reminder of happiness and carefree days-of the big sister who now lives in the next town over.

This is a glimpse of how lucky I was to have her, and how lucky I am to have her still.