A Loover: A Short Story

Its a nice story Lew, however, like almost all Americans, the truth is lost in the War... the first causality...

Hey, you’re probably tired of hearing from me, or at least that’s what I presume is the case at hand. You may not even open this, because that seems to be your style. Maybe I was too attentive. Maybe I’ve misjudged this entire situation and it has transpired for absolutely no reason I have formulated. I can’t tell which one of my thoughts are correct, if any of them are, and I’ll probably never know. But have you ever been ignored? Left hanging? Have you ever had someone totally reject your existence-at least in regards towards yourself? Do you remember the hurt? That’s basically what you brought upon me. I know we didn’t talk for too long, but it was long enough for me to establish some sort of familiarity and say “Hey, this guy’s kind of cool,” which is honestly

Underneath my bed lies a small yet overflowing box encapsulating the many tags I have collected for the past nine years of my life. From a distance, the contents appear to be an odd melange of colors and shapes, but they are much more to me. My miniature treasure trove consists of clothing tags, labels plucked off bags, and some other items. As I gently explore this unorganized collection of memorabilia, I find boarding passes from the places I have traveled to and stayed in. I recall the wide-eyed, excited ten year old I had been when my parents had declared we were moving to Malaysia for three years, and the vigor with which I participated in community service in Cambodia and Indonesia. I also discover old tags from the expensive traditional

“Where is he?” demanded Annabelle. Her wavy long strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail so she looked even stricter than usual. Her deep sea of freckles and bright blue eyes added a playful flair to her look.

Forgotten. Colt is ten years old, sitting on a bench outside Casey’s General Store by himself. He was in the bathroom when his parents left. Colt was feeling sour, because it was the third time this month his parents forgot him. He would use a phone to call them but he doesn’t have one. Then a guy walked up to him and asked, “Do you need a ride Colt?”

I’m so glad that we were able to find are suitcases, I wouldn’t have found my journal (you) if we hadn’t. Believe it or not I relieve a lot of my stress by writing in you and having something to pore the secrets I can’t tell my friends in. It’s getting late so I better go. Talk to you

Once taken away From family and home There I was standing Not wanting to see what happening next Now I’m old and fighting in these terrible battles If I stopped they'd say I’m weak and kill me Should I I don’t know

It was a normal day at the newspaper building. I was just mostly typing articles most of the day. My friend Brently Mallard also work at the same building too. We had a very good friendship after I’ve gotten hired, he was the first people I’ve met on my first day of work. My first job in the company was being the paperboy at the age of 14. Mr. Mallard helped me reloading the cart as I go to the next neighborhood after another. The year was 1897, three years after I was being hired, I got a new shift and it was printing out newspaper from 7 A.M to 6 P.M. I was surprised that Brently Mallard was here too just to keep me company during the day. Later through the week we’ve met Richard he was a very nice person and got started to work here two days ago. The three of us became the best trio in the company.

“Hey, not bad,” Verin remarked as they entered the hangar where the Thunderclap sat. “That thing as roomy as it looks?” The bounty hunter radiated energy on a level that rivaled Fynta. Jorgan sympathized with the man. He clearly worried about his wife, but forced a cheerful facade for reasons Jorgan would never understand. Cormac did the same when he was nervous, whereas Fynta fought back with snark, and Dorne with research. Aric wondered if he had a coping mechanism, then remembered his reputation for being a hardass.

He could sense the second he found it, that spot that would tip her over the edge, and Brett watched Elena's expression, entranced. His fingers worked relentlessly inside her as he felt her climax building and when she shivered and gasped, then came for him, he felt a sense of satisfaction, but also another, indefinable, emotion. More than simple lust. Whatever it was, as she writhed in pleasure, it led to him kissing Elena again hungrily, tongue pushing deep into her mouth, sucking licking and nibbling hers with their lips mashed together, and hot breathy pants mingling. "Good girl."

JOHANNA’S AX SLICED INTO the floor beneath her and she breathed in heavily, smirking menacingly at a slightly shocked Katniss and Peeta, who had just entered the training room. Reeve sat on the steps that led up to the platform that Johanna practiced on.

A moan rang out through the living room as Mags writhed on the couch. Olivia always did have the the tongue of a goddess and holy shit was she making good use of it now. The plan had been to wait until Shawn got home before starting the fun with Olivia, but one thing had led to the other… He could just join in when he returned. She knew he wouldn’t have appreciated another party so soon, but would definitely appreciate some fun times with Liv to help him wind down from his first day at work. Plus, she was still recuperating from yesterday.

A wave of fury heats my chest, melting the icy fingers. However, I can't determine who I'm more enraged with, him or me.

His relationship with Hazel was finally going somewhere, and he couldn’t be happier. It might even be better than winning this week’s tournament. And that meant a lot, considering what Beyblade meant to Shu. The shock had worn off, and today he felt more energetic and motivated than ever before. His next match, the semifinals, were tomorrow. He was facing off against Orochi Ginba and his Omni Odax. He wouldn’t forget the promise he made to Valt. They would meet in the finals no matter what. Nothing could stand in the way of Shu when he made a promise, and that was final.

As I put on my clothes, I snag my letterman jacket and head out the door to school. I justed moved from Arizona to Los Angeles, CA. I had brought my only memory of home my bright letterman jacket. I was hoping to make some new friends at school and learn the area. I knew moving into a different area would be interesting and I would have a new chance at getting a girlfriend and meet new people.