Comments Posted By abigail

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I walked down the country road and heard a sound that I had missed since leaving the country. Sitting on his front porch was an old man rocking back and forth in his creaking old rocking chair. He strummed carelessy on his banjo that was as old as he was. I stopped to listen to him play. When he noticed me he smiled at me, I smiled back at him and headed strolled up his long driveway.

» Posted By Abigail On 11.25.2009 @ 8:47 pm


She danced an elegant dance, gliding across the old wooden stage of the theatre. The spotlight followed her every move. As she twirled and leaped faster the spotlight chased after her always finding her somehow. The people aplauded when she was bowed and the spotlight finally gave way.

» Posted By Abigail On 11.23.2009 @ 10:16 pm


a persons own form of exahltation to the creator. its different for every person…and its not neccessarily singing Hillsong songs…its beautiful and unique!

» Posted By Abigail On 12.07.2009 @ 1:11 pm


Recorders are used to play for music. They are like the clarinet but no metal. They are also really boring to play. I tried it and failed. I hated it a lot. Don’t you?

» Posted By Abigail On 10.06.2009 @ 7:10 pm


I splated paint at ny brother I dont know why but I did .Lckily he was wearing a apron that used to be dark red but now was multicoulored….

» Posted By Abigail On 10.03.2009 @ 12:02 pm


A cork pop out of the bottle leaving a squirt of wineish foam behind it. I gazed at my watch it was midnight…………..

» Posted By Abigail On 10.02.2009 @ 11:51 am


The clip was simple yet elegant. It stayed in her hair as she twirled around, smiling and singing to her father as she did. Hers wasn’t a love story, but that of a young girl entranced by the love of her father. He doted on her and watched her dancing around, never removing his eyes from her. Many eyed the girl as she danced and her skirts flew up around her, but they knew who she was. She was his.

» Posted By Abigail On 10.31.2009 @ 11:44 pm


I like microphones. They make me loud. They make me sing well. I love how I can play with tones into a microphone. The small ones clip to my costumes. Oh, so many long-gone hours spent on a stage with a clipped microphone on my shirt!

» Posted By Abigail On 10.28.2009 @ 9:47 am


Being from Buffalo blizzards seem like nothing. Even if it is the first week in October…

I could never live in California. They don’t have blizzards. They’ve become a part of me. I may complain about the cold, but deep inside I love the snow.

» Posted By Abigail On 02.11.2010 @ 11:15 am


this is a joke, right, a simple joke? glancing at me… take those eyes somewhere else! there’s no need for that kind of blatant staring here. we’re all equals, in an unequal world, and i can’t have you watching me and making others think i’m different, because i’m not. you were just stupid enough to notice me in the crowd.

» Posted By abigail On 01.01.1970 @ 12:00 am

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