Books author - "Angely Mercado"
For the February challenge I was told to write a story around the theme of oxygen. This story came to mind because to me oxygen has always been something physical, mental and even emotional. This story portrays how certain aspects of life can make us feel as if we are left gasping for breathe.
Sometimes love fades, it becomes lukewarm and we lie to ourselves, saying that we can still salvage the pieces that are left. And then we realize those pieces weren't worth salvaging, and that sometimes its just better to let go.
This poem is just a brief snap shot into my thoughts and frustrations regarding hurricane Sandy. This is also my entry to help BookRix donate to the Red Cross.
Taking the subway is an adventure. The stops are predictable and mapped but the people who might come and go are not. The riders help form the pulse of what makes the city move. They are all cells riding through the veins of an elaborate system.
a man's true love is found in the contents of a bottle.The bottles contents are enough to destroy him yet he willingly lets himself become seduced and refuses to let go.
My entry for the Young Writer of the year contest. βHey Boss, have you heard from Chino lately?β I had asked the last time that I was called in. Boss looked up at me from his seat. It didnβt matter if he was sitting or standing, being near Boss made my stomach clench. If I stayed in a room with him for too long, the sharp predator look in his sunken grey eyes made me feel like a rat in a cage. βChino who?β Boss had responded. I remember that cold sweat dripped down my back, matting my t-shirt
For the February challenge I was told to write a story around the theme of oxygen. This story came to mind because to me oxygen has always been something physical, mental and even emotional. This story portrays how certain aspects of life can make us feel as if we are left gasping for breathe.
Sometimes love fades, it becomes lukewarm and we lie to ourselves, saying that we can still salvage the pieces that are left. And then we realize those pieces weren't worth salvaging, and that sometimes its just better to let go.
This poem is just a brief snap shot into my thoughts and frustrations regarding hurricane Sandy. This is also my entry to help BookRix donate to the Red Cross.
Taking the subway is an adventure. The stops are predictable and mapped but the people who might come and go are not. The riders help form the pulse of what makes the city move. They are all cells riding through the veins of an elaborate system.
a man's true love is found in the contents of a bottle.The bottles contents are enough to destroy him yet he willingly lets himself become seduced and refuses to let go.
My entry for the Young Writer of the year contest. βHey Boss, have you heard from Chino lately?β I had asked the last time that I was called in. Boss looked up at me from his seat. It didnβt matter if he was sitting or standing, being near Boss made my stomach clench. If I stayed in a room with him for too long, the sharp predator look in his sunken grey eyes made me feel like a rat in a cage. βChino who?β Boss had responded. I remember that cold sweat dripped down my back, matting my t-shirt