Creative Writing: Welcome To Sandersville

The driver, Cecilia Blair, of vehicle 1 was traveling north through the intersection of N. State St. and Flint St. when she had a collision with vehicle 2. The driver, Jacqueline Muir, of vehicle 2 was heading west on Flint St. when she was struck by vehicle 1.

Jefferson City, TN- The Jefferson County Patriots, comeback from eleven-points down in the third set to sweep the South Doyle Cherokees 25-21, 28-26, 25-23, on Thursday night at the Patriot Academy.

Vance’s upbringing was not effortless, and while he did not write this book as a woeful, self-pitying tale, but instead to shed light on the hillbilly culture, I could not help but feel moved by the profound impact Vance’s grandmother had

I comfortably drive my car into the desolate street, Perusing the deserted buildings, Smashes windows and rusted For Sale signs. The car locked up like Fort Knox. I observe the street for trouble. Two young boys look at me from afar as if I'm an alien. Do I stand out that much same greasy hair, expensive clothes, a smart car I suppose I am out of my comfort zone? “Mister, you don’t belong here” his hand gripped his switch. “Pony.... Ponyboy Curtis” I stammer “I live here or at least I did, I'm here to see two-bit’ The Boys turn around “geez his old now” the boy's chirp. The boys stroll away in awe that they saw the great Ponyboy.

“My mother would gently set herself down in her customary chair near the stove. I sat across from her, my father and sister to my left and right, and crammed in the center was all the food I had made-a spicy codfish stew,

Sunshine was pouring out from in between the buildings, casting shadows all around Ponyboy and the gang as they walked to Pony’s school. They were taking their time walking down the streets and for the first time they all were really seeing what was all around them. Memories were surfacing in their minds showing them what it all meant to them. With every step they took on the sidewalk they remembered a different memory as if they were walking down memory lane. Ponyboy didn’t think it was possible for him to be walking down this street for the last time as a high school student, but he had gone through the years with great grades that earned him many scholarships.

After a long Thursday of work on the ranch the hard working men packed into the dining hall. Everyone rushed through the lineup to eat first and instantly the sound of growling stomachs and clinking forks and knifes filled the dining room that was silent moments ago. George, Slim, Lennie, Candy and Carlson in their dirty work wear an scuffed boots sat around an old wood dining room table that was aged with scratches and cuts from the many men that had worked at the ranch before the five men that sat around the table today. The men chowed down on roast beef with gravy and garlic mashed potatoes. Lennie was thrilled as he ate his mountain of potatoes. Gravy spilled down the edge of old Candy’s lips. “Jesus Candy do you have any table manners?” Carlson asked with frustration in his deep voice.

What comes to mind when you think of Flint, Michigan? I think of a city filled to the brim with crime and thousands of unemployed workers. A place where you can’t use the water in your own house because you are afraid of getting lead poisoning. As it was once deemed the worst place to live in all of the United States, it is probably hard to think of a time where it was any different. Well, Flint was not always this way. Believe it or not, it used to be a prosperous and beautiful city that was home to one of the richest businesses in the world, General Motors. So you might be wondering, “Why did this amazing place turn into the wasteland it is today?”. Everything that is happening in Flint right now is due to the horrible decision Roger Smith

For my trip to Louisiana I would bring along two of my friends. I would bring along Granddaddy Cain, because on car rides it is better to have Quality Company than to have quantity in company. One quality of his that I admire is that he is described as “tall and quiet like a king” (Bambara, 67). This quality is repeated twice in the story and is inferred from the description of his large hands. Another good quality is his manners in which he deals with the two men. He starts out nice and welcomes both men “like he’d invited them to play cards and they’d stay too long” (68). After Cathy describes how his coworkers would describe him granddaddy Cain. He then gives the two men a reason to leave by swatting at their camera and makes it hit the

“Chloe move it, you take up the space for both of our lockers.” Annie said pushing Chloe out of the way.

A blue house, red shutters, and a white picket fence with a border collie. Three kids are running around in the front lawn up on a hilltop. That is what the American dream is right? The American dream is truly in the eye of the beholder. One might think that the American dream is an apartment in downtown Los Angeles, but others might want the smell of fresh cut grass in a small suburb. It’s whatever the person who is working for it wants it to be. As we can see in the play, all of the main characters might be striving for an American dream, but none of them are striving for their same American dream.

Friday, October 13th, there was a carnival coming to Clydeville. Clydeville was a very small town, everybody knew everybody. At the Clydeville high school everyone usually kept to themselves. Leo and Carly were the main couple of the school. They planned on going to the carnival that night because they wanted to go out that night. They thought something terrible was going to happen. They thought right.

The bus bumps over the pothole as it turns out of the back parking lot of the carefully manicured Midtown Tech property and onto the congested, poorly maintained New York street, weaving deftly and dangerously through the dense, rush hour traffic. The bus carries ten high schoolers, a teacher, and the bus driver. It doesn’t take long for the bus to dead stop on their upcoming journey through Midtown and through Queens, and then deeper into Long Island for the team’s second decathlon meet this season, and the first they’re seriously preparing for.

It was colder then usual out, so John and Richard had moved outside into whatever was left of sunlight these days. They had a picturesque view of the White House from what must have been the top of an office building. Most of the back corner of their building had crumbled revealing the a portion of the top story. John and Richard had stumbled upon “the fence” as they called it, years ago and since then turned it into somewhat of a fortress. They were both children when they escaped from the grasp of the Republic and the Democracy. John escaped at the age of 11 form the Republic, a couple months before Richard, then 9, managed to escape the Democracy. They soon became friends when they bumped into each other on the outskirts of D.C. That

According to my mom, I wouldn’t answer the lady’s questions about whether my shoes were too tight or if I knew how to plie yet. The old lady pulled shoe