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They left their encampment with dirt-covered linen strewn about the abandoned grounds amongst clothes, shoes, children's toys and other discarded belongings. The handcart wheels crunched over them, and the dry wheels screamed as the Willie Company started for Zion.
In retrospect, I suppose it might be difficult to develop early as a girl. Guys talking to your chest rather than your face is one thing. Then you're also surrounded by a bunch of girls with pre- adolescent bodies who wrongly think that no breasts and no ass are a good thing. Plus, if you own your sexuality at all as a teen girl you're a slut with a capital S. God, I'm glad those days are over. Not like adulthood is void of sexist platitudes, it's just easier to talk about. In high school, though, if you call someone out on their shit you get bullied. It's really a horrible time in life. Honestly, I don't even know why there is an entire genre of books dedicated to it.
Ann did detention like Whitney Houston did cocaine - frequently and without consideration of the consequences.
They looked to each other for support, for strength, and at times, motivation, to remember why and for whom they lived.
He was not being courageous as he bore the freezing stream for his wife and children. He simply chose between the lesser of two evils - the pain and suffering he would endure in the river, a physical pain that he could stand to bear, or the pain and suffering he would feel if he had to watch his family wade across and freeze. It was not a decision. The choice had already been made the moment Ole proposed marriage to his wife and welcomed these beautiful daughters into the world.
They could have fought against it, begged for another way or gone off the path in hopes of finding an easier passage. Instead, they looked upon the trail ahead, the rough ridge, now bound by thick snow, and they accepted the path they had chosen.
Her sadness was like a deep well just beneath the surface of her determination.
She considered what had made Denmark home to her anyway. Was it the sense of familiarity? That wherever she went there were echoes of a hundred memories she could pluck from her thoughts?
I think it would be best if, when you're having suicidal thoughts of stabbing yourself, that you try to think of rainbows instead."
"Rainbows?" Ann said hugging a pillow.
"Yeah," Lisa said, standing back to look at her wall art. "Ya know - happy, bright, refreshing, the calm after the storm, God's gift to the earth."
"Or the aliens' gift," Ann added.
"Course," Lisa agreed. "Can't rule that out.
He just wasn't into flaunting his awesomeness, but sometimes a person's awesomeness simply flaunts itself, even when you politely ask it not to.
She slowly rolled the book over in her hands, memorizing the cover as she said goodbye. She flipped through the pages, feeling the air on her face and breathing in the smell of the paper.
