I’ve spilled the beer that I didn’t finish three nights ago. Across the already decaying floor boards. The smell of state alcohol is permeating the air, mixed with body odor and dog piss. I was going to clean it up, but it’s already been a couple of hours. They say the key to happiness is finding comfort and contentment from within, despite your surroundings.
I mopped the floor all day long, sweat coming down my face. All of sudden the mop dropped out of my hands and started shaking wildly. Then it started to clean the floor itself. As I watched the mop clean every speck of the floor my face was filled with wonder and amazement. The mop came to me and dropped to the floor. I picked it up and in the mop was a note it said..
“Dear Young Girl,
For your kindness of serving you family the hardest you could i reward you with this magical
mop. It will clean for you on days you are weary and can not stand. I hope you use it wisely.
Yours Truly,
King Alexander”
The young girl hugged the note and the mop. She went to her bedroom and put the mop by her bed. She clenched the note dearly and fell asleep. As she slept the mop had other plans instead of sleep. As the young girl slept the mop cleaned her families house from top to bottom. As the morning peeped through her window the young girl ran downstairs. Her father was waiting for her with a stern face. When she approached him he smiled the widest smile and said, “Emerson, I do not know how you did it but this house id spotless. Good job dear.” Emerson looked around and saw the house was a beautiful pearl white. She hugged her father with all her might and ran upstairs. She ran to her mop and whispered, “Thank you, for all you have done.” Emerson hugged her mop and ran downstairs. When Emerson was downstairs the mop twinkled with magic.
After my little sister spilled her juice on the kitchen tile, my father asked me to mop it up. after I finished mopping the mess, my sister created, I poured her a new class of juice.
To hold a mop is to hold power. The power of cleaning, the power of washing away. The morning after a beautiful party or the minutes after the cat’s regurgitation. To mop is to forget, to move on but to feel every part of the good that went before.
she took the mop and began to go over and over the spot where she could see her reflection. she scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed to clear what she saw to no avail. it stared back–mockingly. she broke the mop in half deeming it unfit for the job at erasing her existence. next time she’ll use something else.
read wrie listen something else…I have already done “mop”, but i think all i did was “mop mop mop mop” etc. but still! this is annoying. if the makers of this website are reading this, GET NEW WORDS
Mopping is a satisfying kind of cleaning. The kind that you can see that you have made a Difference, especially if you have small children and do not mop often. This kind of action makes me feel tidy inside and out.
We stսmbled over here coming from a dіffеrent weƅ address and thоught I might as well
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How is it that you feed off my anguish? You mop it all up and pour it down your slimy throat. You don’t stop for air, you just keep chugging and chugging till you’ve sopped it all up. You take everything until you leave me lying on the ground, cold to the touch. The numb feeling overtakes my body and I feel like I am floating in the cosmos. Hearing your cackle in the distance and seeing your huge looming shadow, it is almost as you are watching me with your shadow. “You see all” is what people say when they pray to you. I’m starting to think what they say is true, but I know there is more to just “watching”. You are spectating, waiting for a moment where we are in utter torment in our own minds, that is when you strike.
I’ve spilled the beer that I didn’t finish three nights ago. Across the already decaying floor boards. The smell of state alcohol is permeating the air, mixed with body odor and dog piss. I was going to clean it up, but it’s already been a couple of hours. They say the key to happiness is finding comfort and contentment from within, despite your surroundings.
I don’t have a mop, anyway.
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I mopped the floor all day long, sweat coming down my face. All of sudden the mop dropped out of my hands and started shaking wildly. Then it started to clean the floor itself. As I watched the mop clean every speck of the floor my face was filled with wonder and amazement. The mop came to me and dropped to the floor. I picked it up and in the mop was a note it said..
“Dear Young Girl,
For your kindness of serving you family the hardest you could i reward you with this magical
mop. It will clean for you on days you are weary and can not stand. I hope you use it wisely.
Yours Truly,
King Alexander”
The young girl hugged the note and the mop. She went to her bedroom and put the mop by her bed. She clenched the note dearly and fell asleep. As she slept the mop had other plans instead of sleep. As the young girl slept the mop cleaned her families house from top to bottom. As the morning peeped through her window the young girl ran downstairs. Her father was waiting for her with a stern face. When she approached him he smiled the widest smile and said, “Emerson, I do not know how you did it but this house id spotless. Good job dear.” Emerson looked around and saw the house was a beautiful pearl white. She hugged her father with all her might and ran upstairs. She ran to her mop and whispered, “Thank you, for all you have done.” Emerson hugged her mop and ran downstairs. When Emerson was downstairs the mop twinkled with magic.
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After my little sister spilled her juice on the kitchen tile, my father asked me to mop it up. after I finished mopping the mess, my sister created, I poured her a new class of juice.
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the mop slipped lazily on the floor. the handle was in slow motion, a stop motion movie at two frames per second.
To hold a mop is to hold power. The power of cleaning, the power of washing away. The morning after a beautiful party or the minutes after the cat’s regurgitation. To mop is to forget, to move on but to feel every part of the good that went before.
Wow, thank you so much for this publish.
she took the mop and began to go over and over the spot where she could see her reflection. she scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed to clear what she saw to no avail. it stared back–mockingly. she broke the mop in half deeming it unfit for the job at erasing her existence. next time she’ll use something else.
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read wrie listen something else…I have already done “mop”, but i think all i did was “mop mop mop mop” etc. but still! this is annoying. if the makers of this website are reading this, GET NEW WORDS
Thanks for this Awesome publish.
Mopping is a satisfying kind of cleaning. The kind that you can see that you have made a Difference, especially if you have small children and do not mop often. This kind of action makes me feel tidy inside and out.
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We stսmbled over here coming from a dіffеrent weƅ address and thоught I might as well
check things out. I like ᴡhat I see so i am just following you.
Look forward to looking into your web page again.
These are outstanding ideas.
How is it that you feed off my anguish? You mop it all up and pour it down your slimy throat. You don’t stop for air, you just keep chugging and chugging till you’ve sopped it all up. You take everything until you leave me lying on the ground, cold to the touch. The numb feeling overtakes my body and I feel like I am floating in the cosmos. Hearing your cackle in the distance and seeing your huge looming shadow, it is almost as you are watching me with your shadow. “You see all” is what people say when they pray to you. I’m starting to think what they say is true, but I know there is more to just “watching”. You are spectating, waiting for a moment where we are in utter torment in our own minds, that is when you strike.
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