Ghost-light-house
“The ghost,” she repeats. “Have you seen her yet?”
“The ghost,” she repeats. “Have you seen her yet?”
If I knew my story had a tragic ending, would I still sing it?
My host mom took one look at my outfit and, with a confused and shocked smile, asked in utmost politeness, “Is that an American style?”
There is something inside me that is deeply distrustful of people who perform acts of Christianity to the general public.
If Polyphemus is just a glorified, land-dwelling version of the shark from Jaws, he hasn’t failed his responsibilities as a host by eating Odysseus’s men. He’s just hungry.
Before I left, I signed my sisters’ names and mine in the closet. A farewell.
If you were really into BBC’s Sherlock in the 2010’s, I’d suggest Leeds United. Cause you gotta unite those leads to solve those crimes.
Perhaps they are simply a sea sponge.
I had pairs of cleats that sat in my closet unused but moved from dorm room to college house and so forth, because I couldn’t imagine getting rid of my Neymars I saved all my babysitting money for.
Someone like that went to Calvin the same time I did and learned completely different lessons. That’s the piece, I thought.