Her birthday had passed. No one had remembered which left her feeling depressed.The next day however her best friend came up to her and wished her a merry belated birthday. She then realized the value of their friendship.
With bated breath I breathed the belated life into the belated birthday card. The belated greetings grated on my friend’s nerves I’ll bet as she opened the card.
+
Ah, belated.. This is a word that I’m very familiar with, since I tend to put things off. Thankfully, when I have a big project at hand, I never put that event off. I finish that project as soon as I can so that I can do other things. No, my problem is that I tend to put off petty events. I tend to put off walking the dog, or exercising. I tend to put off reading or other petty daily habits that I should instill in myself, such as washing my face. By the time I remember that I’m supposed to wash my face, I’m already sleeping. I want to change this lax characteristic of mine.
“Happy Belated 15th Birthday” the card from my dad read. Maybe if you actually gave a fuck you’d know that I was turning 17 this year. Mum came in, “Did you receive any money love?” I shook my head, pocketing the 50 dollars in my pocket. I was sure as hell not giving my money for mum to squander on booze and cigarettes.
let’s pick up the pen
and start this dance once again.
the beads slide hesitantly along the string.
i push against the paper.
it cuts me.
i push on.
because it is worth it, friend.
it is worth seeing your face in my mind
every day.
happy birthday! I’m sorry the gift is late but you see, i was busy yesterday honey, and i got you the card and everything last friday, and I’m giving it to you this wednesday even though your birthday was on tuesday, but its not cause I forgot and god I’m sorry, look its a mini jar of nutella, I’m sorry.
I forgot you birthday but that doesn’t mean I forgot you. I just didn’t think of you on the day that I should have. But non the less, you are very important and you are not belated to me…just the day. Thank goodness you are not just a day!
Tim pulled the large envelope through the letterbox. It was barely able to pass through, and in doing so dislodged another envelope that had been stuck inside. Opening it, He realised he would now have to send a much belated response that he could not attend his former boss’s wedding.
Suzie sighed. Not one person had told her Happy Birthday. Not even her mother. Suzie was depressed. there was no other way to put it. How could no one remember her birthday? The question haunted her endlessly. What Suzie didn’t know was that a surprise party was prepared for the very next day.
Yesterday was her birthday. My friend, my bestfriend. But the party will be held this Saturday. I will be going of course. Twelfth birthday. Belated for her real birthday was yesterday, Tuesday. Today is wednesday.
I wonder how it will turn out. I don’t know if I should help out. Well, she’s my best friend. I don’t have any siblings. I treat her like my own sister. Celebrating her birthday. It’s going to be lots of fun!
It was a belated wedding gift, something small but a gift nonetheless. We’d missed the wedding with Jack in the hospital and since then I hadn’t been up to the task of shopping.
In my house, belated is all we know. Maybe because our idea of time and the present has been so changed from what it’s supposed to be. Maybe because we’re so caught up in what we’re supposed to do that we completely forget about what we need to do. Stop. Take a moment. Celebrate. Watch out for the world.
“Happy belated birthday!” she said, her mouth pressed up against the receiver.
“Oh, thank you Beth,” she said. “I miss you, sweetheart,” the elder woman said, breath hitching slightly through the phone.
That Beth knew her grandmother was crying and that, in turn, set her off. “I miss you too, Nana,”
This is a test to see what happens when I use one word in my classroom. It is a free website which helps my students get free with their words and so forth. Oh yeah baby this is what
Alice was late. Unbelievably and horribly late.
She had to consider the irony of that, considering the whole Rabbit thingy.
But she pressed on, running towards the school.
AAAAAAAAND the train.
Nononononononono this wasn’t happening!
Running. Running. She wasn’t going to make it. The train would cut her off-
*BLARING HORN* splat. She was run over by the train.
The woman sat on her couch, staring at the small purple package perched menacingly on her coffee table. It was wrapped in reflective paper the color of an eggplant and silver ribbons wrapped around it like tentacles, tied in a neat bow on the top. It was a long belated birthday gift, she knew, from a time past. Opening it, she knew, would only be a mistake.
The man was a little too slow with his words. He often spent most of his time tangled up in them like that one tragic third grader on the playground that never quiet mastered double dutch. The soft pitiful laugh he received roughly fourteen seconds after he introduced himself to a woman was just as excruciatingly embarrassing as the wagging pig tails flicking atop all the third grade girls’ heads as they laughed. Mockery. He could argue it was the worst form of the infamous taunt with his lengthy list of personal anecdotes beginning long before third grade and his double dutch tongue.
The essence of time was belated, one domino furthering the advance of the other until they arrived at one which did not fall, an ultimate dictatorship in a black and white schemed madness that colored no ultimate cost. In the end, they were late for everything.
There was something slightly off about that afternoon. It was almost like I had slipped down the rung of a rather unforgiving ladder. Everything felt slanted sideways, shifted slightly to either the left or the right. Ten degrees off of Okay. That’s how I would have described it.
“What’s wrong?” said he.
“Nothing,” said I, but it was a lie.
I think we concluded the day’s festivities with the ding of the bell. The harsh sort of bell, not the pleasant, melodic one. I realized in that moment the price of being tardy when it comes to matters of the heart.
It had been over an hour of waiting, and in such a special night, she would not have tolerated even a minute of it. “You’re late.” She bitterly said as he took a seat on the chair across from her and he sighed. “Got stuck in the studio. I’m terribly sorry, love.” She snorted, shaking her head in mock surprise. “Don’t pull that on me.” He looked over at her, hope still clear in his expression. He knew that going behind her back with another woman was not only disgusting, but awfully unfair of him, though she knew too well the truth behind his lame excuses.
“It’s a bit belated, I know, but I’m truly sorry. You have to believe that. What happened…it wasn’t supposed to go down like that.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Her chin quivered and she turned away from him. “I loved her. Apologies won’t bring her back, Antoine. Nothing will…you just don’t understand.”
“But I might,” He squeezed her hand tightly. “If you’d let me try.”
Today my coffee was late. My toast was late. The bus was late. The subway was late. All the tv shows were late. My girlfriend’s period was late. Everything was late. Especially my late uncle Norris.
Belated thanks to the day for the unexpected delights of a conference that started out boring and wound up to be a fascinating event. You never know what happines lies ahead, delight even, like a belated birthday. You don’t even realize that your happiness was delayed because you are so happy.
I gave my girlfriend a pogo stick for a belated birthday present. No one was quite sure why I had gotten her a pogo stick until she started bouncing on it. The look of sheer mirth streaked across her sanguine face just made my heart melt, and my brother’s head shake.
“Can’t she just like flowers or chocolates like the rest of ’em?” he asked as she hopped along the pavement in the backyard.
“Nope!” I replied with a shit-eating grin. “Because that, my dear brother, would be boring as all Hell.”
i meant to get to you sooner. my iphone reminded me, my desktop calendar tickled me, and a number of our friends told me that you were having a party. since i didn’t get an invite, i decided to just fuck it all. happy whatever, asshole.
The hour hand dragged itself around the clock as her hands dragged themselves through her hair, slowly making a round, then two, then three. Dark hairs fell loose and drifted to the floor as time wore on, yet despite the continuing dark threads that wrapped around her fingers, she kept on playing with her hair.
Several hours later, the door creaked open. Footsteps shuffled through the foyer, and the door was shut. Boots kicked off, lights flicked on, and the shuffling made itself towards the living room.
He found her curled up in her chair, fast asleep, the floor around his covered in fallen hairs.
“You have to stop doing that,” he whispered, “or you’ll go bald soon.”
She didn’t hear.
I read the word as blackened, and I like that better.
Jamie scraped the black toast-dust onto the plate with the side of a knife. She would’ve liked to have started over with a new piece of white bread, but she was out. Her paycheck would come next week, but until then… black toast.
One week late. Mom knocked on the screen door calling my name. I knew she wouldn’t come in, even though I never locked the door. “Honey?” Knock knock knock.
It doesn’t matter that she forgot. I don’t care about that. Truth be told, I’m not sure what I’m so upset about. It could be the years of neglect and emotional abandon, and even though it’s catching up to her, I’m going to let her stay there and knock.
I really don’t know what belated means. I think its something to do with hungry or tired? maybe even bloated. it kinda sounds like bloated. soo I don’t know what to say so lets talk about lettuce. I like crunchy lettuce.
A card given too late to quell the gnawing angst that my existence here on earth is simply being ignored.
Her birthday had passed. No one had remembered which left her feeling depressed.The next day however her best friend came up to her and wished her a merry belated birthday. She then realized the value of their friendship.
With bated breath I breathed the belated life into the belated birthday card. The belated greetings grated on my friend’s nerves I’ll bet as she opened the card.
+
Ah, belated.. This is a word that I’m very familiar with, since I tend to put things off. Thankfully, when I have a big project at hand, I never put that event off. I finish that project as soon as I can so that I can do other things. No, my problem is that I tend to put off petty events. I tend to put off walking the dog, or exercising. I tend to put off reading or other petty daily habits that I should instill in myself, such as washing my face. By the time I remember that I’m supposed to wash my face, I’m already sleeping. I want to change this lax characteristic of mine.
This might be a bit belated, but I think you’re pretty awesome.
I kinda just wanted you to know that. That’s all.
I think.
Facebook
“Happy Belated 15th Birthday” the card from my dad read. Maybe if you actually gave a fuck you’d know that I was turning 17 this year. Mum came in, “Did you receive any money love?” I shook my head, pocketing the 50 dollars in my pocket. I was sure as hell not giving my money for mum to squander on booze and cigarettes.
let’s pick up the pen
and start this dance once again.
the beads slide hesitantly along the string.
i push against the paper.
it cuts me.
i push on.
because it is worth it, friend.
it is worth seeing your face in my mind
every day.
happy birthday! I’m sorry the gift is late but you see, i was busy yesterday honey, and i got you the card and everything last friday, and I’m giving it to you this wednesday even though your birthday was on tuesday, but its not cause I forgot and god I’m sorry, look its a mini jar of nutella, I’m sorry.
I forgot you birthday but that doesn’t mean I forgot you. I just didn’t think of you on the day that I should have. But non the less, you are very important and you are not belated to me…just the day. Thank goodness you are not just a day!
Tim pulled the large envelope through the letterbox. It was barely able to pass through, and in doing so dislodged another envelope that had been stuck inside. Opening it, He realised he would now have to send a much belated response that he could not attend his former boss’s wedding.
How the belated
become the delayed
became the forgotten
became just a day
how the birthdays became just isolation
and anniversaries just sadness.
Suzie sighed. Not one person had told her Happy Birthday. Not even her mother. Suzie was depressed. there was no other way to put it. How could no one remember her birthday? The question haunted her endlessly. What Suzie didn’t know was that a surprise party was prepared for the very next day.
Yesterday was her birthday. My friend, my bestfriend. But the party will be held this Saturday. I will be going of course. Twelfth birthday. Belated for her real birthday was yesterday, Tuesday. Today is wednesday.
I wonder how it will turn out. I don’t know if I should help out. Well, she’s my best friend. I don’t have any siblings. I treat her like my own sister. Celebrating her birthday. It’s going to be lots of fun!
It was a belated wedding gift, something small but a gift nonetheless. We’d missed the wedding with Jack in the hospital and since then I hadn’t been up to the task of shopping.
In my house, belated is all we know. Maybe because our idea of time and the present has been so changed from what it’s supposed to be. Maybe because we’re so caught up in what we’re supposed to do that we completely forget about what we need to do. Stop. Take a moment. Celebrate. Watch out for the world.
“Happy belated birthday!” she said, her mouth pressed up against the receiver.
“Oh, thank you Beth,” she said. “I miss you, sweetheart,” the elder woman said, breath hitching slightly through the phone.
That Beth knew her grandmother was crying and that, in turn, set her off. “I miss you too, Nana,”
This is a test to see what happens when I use one word in my classroom. It is a free website which helps my students get free with their words and so forth. Oh yeah baby this is what
She wished him a happy belated birthday, she wasn’t one for such frivolous celebrations…
Alice was late. Unbelievably and horribly late.
She had to consider the irony of that, considering the whole Rabbit thingy.
But she pressed on, running towards the school.
AAAAAAAAND the train.
Nononononononono this wasn’t happening!
Running. Running. She wasn’t going to make it. The train would cut her off-
*BLARING HORN* splat. She was run over by the train.
The woman sat on her couch, staring at the small purple package perched menacingly on her coffee table. It was wrapped in reflective paper the color of an eggplant and silver ribbons wrapped around it like tentacles, tied in a neat bow on the top. It was a long belated birthday gift, she knew, from a time past. Opening it, she knew, would only be a mistake.
The man was a little too slow with his words. He often spent most of his time tangled up in them like that one tragic third grader on the playground that never quiet mastered double dutch. The soft pitiful laugh he received roughly fourteen seconds after he introduced himself to a woman was just as excruciatingly embarrassing as the wagging pig tails flicking atop all the third grade girls’ heads as they laughed. Mockery. He could argue it was the worst form of the infamous taunt with his lengthy list of personal anecdotes beginning long before third grade and his double dutch tongue.
The essence of time was belated, one domino furthering the advance of the other until they arrived at one which did not fall, an ultimate dictatorship in a black and white schemed madness that colored no ultimate cost. In the end, they were late for everything.
There was something slightly off about that afternoon. It was almost like I had slipped down the rung of a rather unforgiving ladder. Everything felt slanted sideways, shifted slightly to either the left or the right. Ten degrees off of Okay. That’s how I would have described it.
“What’s wrong?” said he.
“Nothing,” said I, but it was a lie.
I think we concluded the day’s festivities with the ding of the bell. The harsh sort of bell, not the pleasant, melodic one. I realized in that moment the price of being tardy when it comes to matters of the heart.
It had been over an hour of waiting, and in such a special night, she would not have tolerated even a minute of it. “You’re late.” She bitterly said as he took a seat on the chair across from her and he sighed. “Got stuck in the studio. I’m terribly sorry, love.” She snorted, shaking her head in mock surprise. “Don’t pull that on me.” He looked over at her, hope still clear in his expression. He knew that going behind her back with another woman was not only disgusting, but awfully unfair of him, though she knew too well the truth behind his lame excuses.
“It’s a bit belated, I know, but I’m truly sorry. You have to believe that. What happened…it wasn’t supposed to go down like that.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Her chin quivered and she turned away from him. “I loved her. Apologies won’t bring her back, Antoine. Nothing will…you just don’t understand.”
“But I might,” He squeezed her hand tightly. “If you’d let me try.”
Today my coffee was late. My toast was late. The bus was late. The subway was late. All the tv shows were late. My girlfriend’s period was late. Everything was late. Especially my late uncle Norris.
Belated thanks to the day for the unexpected delights of a conference that started out boring and wound up to be a fascinating event. You never know what happines lies ahead, delight even, like a belated birthday. You don’t even realize that your happiness was delayed because you are so happy.
I’m sorry, I know that this apology is a bit belated” He said.
“Really, it’s fine”
“You know that it’s not, I just didn’t know what to say.”
I don’t know what “belated” means, so I will write about red pandas. Pandas aren’t red. They are black and white. That’s all what I wanna say.
the birthday card read, he looked again at the postmarked date – typical of their friendship over the years
I gave my girlfriend a pogo stick for a belated birthday present. No one was quite sure why I had gotten her a pogo stick until she started bouncing on it. The look of sheer mirth streaked across her sanguine face just made my heart melt, and my brother’s head shake.
“Can’t she just like flowers or chocolates like the rest of ’em?” he asked as she hopped along the pavement in the backyard.
“Nope!” I replied with a shit-eating grin. “Because that, my dear brother, would be boring as all Hell.”
i meant to get to you sooner. my iphone reminded me, my desktop calendar tickled me, and a number of our friends told me that you were having a party. since i didn’t get an invite, i decided to just fuck it all. happy whatever, asshole.
The hour hand dragged itself around the clock as her hands dragged themselves through her hair, slowly making a round, then two, then three. Dark hairs fell loose and drifted to the floor as time wore on, yet despite the continuing dark threads that wrapped around her fingers, she kept on playing with her hair.
Several hours later, the door creaked open. Footsteps shuffled through the foyer, and the door was shut. Boots kicked off, lights flicked on, and the shuffling made itself towards the living room.
He found her curled up in her chair, fast asleep, the floor around his covered in fallen hairs.
“You have to stop doing that,” he whispered, “or you’ll go bald soon.”
She didn’t hear.
belated birthday cards…belated gifts, make you feel guilty. makes it worse to wait. typing typing
belated means waiting too long, why didn’t you just do it in the first place? drama drama!
I read the word as blackened, and I like that better.
Jamie scraped the black toast-dust onto the plate with the side of a knife. She would’ve liked to have started over with a new piece of white bread, but she was out. Her paycheck would come next week, but until then… black toast.
One week late. Mom knocked on the screen door calling my name. I knew she wouldn’t come in, even though I never locked the door. “Honey?” Knock knock knock.
It doesn’t matter that she forgot. I don’t care about that. Truth be told, I’m not sure what I’m so upset about. It could be the years of neglect and emotional abandon, and even though it’s catching up to her, I’m going to let her stay there and knock.
I really don’t know what belated means. I think its something to do with hungry or tired? maybe even bloated. it kinda sounds like bloated. soo I don’t know what to say so lets talk about lettuce. I like crunchy lettuce.
most birthday wishes from me are belated.
Belated
I waited
Predation
On roses
Poppies
Are eyes
Among the flowers
I’ve seen them from the towers