I guess i should write some more.

Hi. Anybody else wanna write something? just post it in the comments.

For the Love of Lucy

i really like that saying. figures. heres a story to go wif it


Lucy? Luck? Where are you? LUCY? God, that stupid cat. Where did she go? I guess it's sort of mean to put her in a crate, but she doesn't need to run off! Did she need to go pee? Was she hungry? I'm the one who feeds her.  Did she smell something? Impossible. Where was she? I looked. And looked. And finally, I sat down and cried. It had always been me and Lucy. Lucy and I. All alone. And finally, when we had a chance in the big wide world, when people would say, " Hello, nice to meet you" instead of the pitying, repulsed, " It's that Miranda girl. She lives all alone". And I would say, "Nice to meet you, too. I'm Miranda ", instead of thinking, ' I'm not alone. I have Lucy." I actually am stuck alone. And as I sit , knowing I will have to go back, the tears running down my face, in the cold, I hear a voice. It, too is a sad voice. I can tell before I look up. I also hear a soft purr. I wonder, and I almost do not hear the voice saying, "Is this your cat?", because when I look up, I see Lucy, and I know things will be fine. And they are. The voice is sad. It belongs to a young woman. She is in business clothes. She has a cup of coffee. And I know her. She has the face of the angel in the stained glass in the church that I walked past everyday back in the town.

I'm BACK!!!!

I was walking back home. Well, skipping, actually, (i had gotten full marks on a test) when, out of the blue, literally, a small, dark shape came careening down from the sky, breaking up my everyday routine, though I did not know it, forever. As it fell, I thought. I was in an enclosed bubble. Time stood still. And slowly, slowly, I came to a conclusion. I would save that falling object. And it was small. It would not crush me, or pin me beneath it's pitiful body. I would save it. As I lay, trying to get to sleep that night, I wondered why. I had not know that I would soon hold a living, breathing creature, or that the same creature would be curled up in my arms later that evening; large, fleshy fingers against small, delicate wings. All that I had known was that I could not let that small object lie broken on the ground, heart as faint as a butterfly's wings, doomed to be no longer part of the world, when I could have been there, cradling a small baby bird in my arms.


Anna
P.S. This is fiction

hi y'all

Hello!!! Welcome to my blog! This blog is for rambling purposes only. but hey, you might actually learn something. anywho, without further ado, let the games begin!