Emma felt brave at first, but when she approached him her knees felt weak and her mouth was dry. John – there is something that I need to tell you. I never meant for this to happen. You have to forgive me, I beg of you not to tell anyone. It happened last week – Tuesday. It was late and I was alone in the garage when I opened one of Sarah’s old crates she had left behind. You will not believe me when I tell you what I found.
She was reckless and foolish and somehow this made her brave. She didn’t have any consideration for her own life. There was nothing left to consider; she was alone. She had everything to gain and nothing to lose. This wasn’t bravery. This was desperation.
She stared at herself in the mirror,
For exactly 601 seconds,
Knowing that it was the most courageous thing she could ever do.
Her love handles,
Her misshaped freckles,
The stupid birthmark on her shoulder that looked like a smudge of dirt.
As the tears fell down her cheeks,
She smiled her crooked smile,
And knew she was going to be okay.
It was brave of her to try it, to even make the attempt. Just crossing the living room would have been a triumph.
Why do I keep writing about the same things over and over again here? It’s like I’ve become conditioned to write only about Ernie’s house again and again and again, when I call up the oneword website, I just return to my life at 6 years old and can’t stop writing about it.
I haven’t been so nervous lately. Asking questions when I need to, and not caring about whether it’s making me look stupid. Walking into class with my head up, dancing with the first group for the combination in ballet. Honestly, this all started happening when you told me to think about you when my heart starts to beat quickly and my breath is shaky. I’ve always been brave. But I still hope if you leave, I can stay this way.
to be brave, is it a virtue or a vice? how can we know the answers to questions such as these? on one hand it may lead to victory in battle, on the other it may lead to death. instead we must look inwards and ask: ‘what am I to become?’
braveness, is it a virtue or a vice, haw can we know the answers to questions such as these? on one hand, braveness might be seen as honorable, on the other, it may lead to death. it is a matter of
She bore a heart of steel within her, one that never cowered before the unknown. It beat with a roar like that of a lion’s, strong and true. It never faltered, never faded. It beat on and on and on.
But again her thoughts came back to the conversation she had overheard, triggered by seeing a politician on the TV in some shop window. She had no idea who Kenji and his friend were planning to kill, but she got the impression from their talk that it was a politician, or some public figure: they kept talking about the impact it would have. But doing something about it would require her to be more brave than she was capable of being right now.
But again her thoughts came back to the conversation she had overheard, triggered by seeing a politician on the TV in some shop window. She had no idea who Kenji and his friend were planning to kill, but she got the impression from their talk that it was a politician, or some public figure: they kept talking about the impact it would have.
Emma felt brave at first, but when she approached him her knees felt weak and her mouth was dry. John – there is something that I need to tell you. I never meant for this to happen. You have to forgive me, I beg of you not to tell anyone. It happened last week – Tuesday. It was late and I was alone in the garage when I opened one of Sarah’s old crates she had left behind. You will not believe me when I tell you what I found.
She was reckless and foolish and somehow this made her brave. She didn’t have any consideration for her own life. There was nothing left to consider; she was alone. She had everything to gain and nothing to lose. This wasn’t bravery. This was desperation.
She stared at herself in the mirror,
For exactly 601 seconds,
Knowing that it was the most courageous thing she could ever do.
Her love handles,
Her misshaped freckles,
The stupid birthmark on her shoulder that looked like a smudge of dirt.
As the tears fell down her cheeks,
She smiled her crooked smile,
And knew she was going to be okay.
Letting go was scary,
it haunted me around corners so dark
I couldn’t hear myself breathe.
I tore apart, my fists clenched through it all.
Was I defending myself?
or at a war with nothing?
never did I think life would dish a buffet like this,
never have I felt so brave.
It was brave of her to try it, to even make the attempt. Just crossing the living room would have been a triumph.
Why do I keep writing about the same things over and over again here? It’s like I’ve become conditioned to write only about Ernie’s house again and again and again, when I call up the oneword website, I just return to my life at 6 years old and can’t stop writing about it.
I haven’t been so nervous lately. Asking questions when I need to, and not caring about whether it’s making me look stupid. Walking into class with my head up, dancing with the first group for the combination in ballet. Honestly, this all started happening when you told me to think about you when my heart starts to beat quickly and my breath is shaky. I’ve always been brave. But I still hope if you leave, I can stay this way.
to be brave, is it a virtue or a vice? how can we know the answers to questions such as these? on one hand it may lead to victory in battle, on the other it may lead to death. instead we must look inwards and ask: ‘what am I to become?’
braveness, is it a virtue or a vice, haw can we know the answers to questions such as these? on one hand, braveness might be seen as honorable, on the other, it may lead to death. it is a matter of
She bore a heart of steel within her, one that never cowered before the unknown. It beat with a roar like that of a lion’s, strong and true. It never faltered, never faded. It beat on and on and on.
But again her thoughts came back to the conversation she had overheard, triggered by seeing a politician on the TV in some shop window. She had no idea who Kenji and his friend were planning to kill, but she got the impression from their talk that it was a politician, or some public figure: they kept talking about the impact it would have. But doing something about it would require her to be more brave than she was capable of being right now.
But again her thoughts came back to the conversation she had overheard, triggered by seeing a politician on the TV in some shop window. She had no idea who Kenji and his friend were planning to kill, but she got the impression from their talk that it was a politician, or some public figure: they kept talking about the impact it would have.
Brave man Iam, as the crazed old bird chewd me out, the old slapper left me gobsmacked!