Limoges Box: A Short Story

and then you die. When they can find a body, they can put you in a coffin. Until then, you keep fighting. Because you have to, because you can't stop from it happening again". She then smiled and changed the subject, saying "I still remember you lying down in bed next to me, reading. I didn't see a lot of perfect happiness in my life, but you were perfectly happy".

Alcohol, it has been around for ten thousand years. Some great things have come from it, but in some situations it has ruined people’s lives. Some may ask how something can have such opposite endings. Well the answer is that people don’t know moderation while consuming alcohol. Alcohol can easily be misinterpreted as an un-harmful substance. In this essay I will educate readers that in moderation and in church traditions it is not harmful or being abused. I will be discussing the importance of where the selfishness and rule breaking comes from when one is intoxicated while driving. I say selfish because that is what it is, a human being lacking consideration for

“What?”. “ I mean why did you want me to stay?” I answered. I just thought you had more left in you, and I think there still is.” he responded as he walked away.

“It’s a bracelet that kind of tells our story. A puppy for how we met, coffee mug for the times that she would bring me a latte from her part-time job in university, pencil for the late night studying sessions, camera for her love for photography, the British flag for the second chance we gave each other and heart for…” Luke began trailing off. “I just thought I needed to get her something with actual sentimental value. She would probably murder me if I had gotten her something like a Starbucks gift card,” he laughed. This time, Andrew joined him.

recalled her sadness. “I would start missing my mother from the time she arrived, knowing she

“This conversation is not over. I want what’s best for you and right now that’s going to see your aunt Carol. I think that it's not as bad as you make it be. -” I cut her off by leaving the room and going to bed.

Hugo Chavez. The name alone is instantly recognizable. The sixty-two year old man from Venezuela has made quite the splash with his entrance into the world of politics. His charisma is both mesmerizing and disarming, his upbringing humble and his ideals are revolutionary. Hugo Chavez is a true leader who, following in the footsteps of his lifelong rebel great-grandfather, aims to change the face and direction of the nation of Venezuela. His movements and decisions have garnered global attention and criticism, from the man he attempted to kill to the imperial nation he opposes. So how is it that a man who can create so much controversy can manage to captivate so many people and wield such control over the people of Venezuela? The answer to

Alyssa Ayres, author of this week’s reading, questions yet defends the rise of India as a global power. Ayres praises the country’s booming growth in military defense to manufacturing ventures. While the world continues to view India as an “emerging power,” its alliance with the United States can help set them up for the world

“You used adrenaline,” stated the mother, her hoarse voice crackled. She glided her hand across her eldest daughter causing her eyes water, “Then I guess it's time.”

“nods too young to understand that she can’t see it. Tears fall down her cheeks.”

“Ava. She’s my one reason to live. If you can’t live for me or yourself, live for her, she needs you. I need you.” She got choked up, tears ran down her face.

Emma squeezed her eyes as she fought to keep tears back. It was hard to think about her mother, whom she never lied to her before.

I wipe my crusty eyes open as I roll to look at the clock, 2.00am. My stomach is growling like a hungry brown bear, muscles tensed together as though I’ve held my pee in too long and most of all I feel like a weedy unnourished orphan from Oliver. 5 hours until breakfast I say to myself, is it worth the waiting for? Just roll over and sleep! Ok. I’m so awake, ‘twinkle twinkle little star how I wonder how you AHHHH!! Stomach craping but breakfast isn’t long, clock reads 2.15, 2.20, and 2.22… that’s enough. On goes the bedroom light blinding my eyes like the viscous sun in summer, next the passage and finally the kitchen, I scourge through the pantry like a hungry warrior but trying not to wake the others, so I’m prancing around the kitchen like a cat sneaking up on the little sparrow.

She watches as the heads of the people, she has known most of her life, turn to look at her. Once foot in front of the other, she starts to walk. However, somethings not right. Where is George? He should be by the Pastor, who is wearing a confused look on his face. “Father, where is George?” She whispers. “I’m sure he’s still in the changing room.” Once she reaches the pastor, her father goes to look for George. “I’m sure he’ll be out.” She says. Waiting, she holds her blossom bouquet. Her father eventually comes back. “I can’t find him.” “What?” she says. “I don’t think he’s coming dear.” “No. He will. I know it.” Her father sighs. He pulls a white envelope out of his blazer. “I found this in his changing room.” “Furrowing her brow, she takes the envelope and pulls the paper out of it. She instantly recognizes his handwriting. He didn’t write much. Reading each word, her heart grows heavy. Something wet drips on the paper. They’re her tears, she realizes. The letter falls out of her hand. Her guests all have a worried look on their faces. So many questions run through her head. How could this be? He loves her. He loves her, right? Why isn’t she good enough? She doesn’t know. All she knows is that he won’t marry her. He’s left and won’t be returning. She looks at her white dress, thinks of the white frosted cake. Think of their future that will never be. She’s broken. How can a broken woman love

This time she asked with a sad looking face “ Can I tell you something personal?”