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They had been hammering all day long. A piece of wood here, a piece of wood there now the base was up you could see that it was going to be a house it had four walls with openings for windows. Now it was time to get to work on the roof. They had built the rafters down below and they just needed to lift them into place and nail them down. This was done so quickly she thought. She had gone in to the trailer to make sandwiches for all the men and when she came out the rafters were up and they had started placing the plywood on top of it. The roof would be down before the end of the day.
By Bethany Herrington URL on 07.03.2014
I held on to the rafters as I fell from the roof. As hard as I tried I could not muster all of the strength to pull myself up. I felt a single tear fall from my eye as I slowly let go.
By Jasmin on 07.03.2014
I held onto the rafters as I fell from the roof. I could not with all my strength muster up the energy to pull myself up. I felt a single tear fall from my eye as I slowly began to slip.
By Jas URL on 07.03.2014
support beams to hold and provide support. people who float down a river, enjoying the sun and relaxing. building blocks to a bigger purpose.
By Shawn Wagoner on 07.03.2014
Why the rafters?
Melody grimaced as dust stuck to her palm, and then, as she reached behind her to wipe it off, realized it was a spider’s web, sticky and gross but luckily spider-less. “Bryan.” She growled under her breath. “I’m going to slay you alive once I’ve- eek!”
She nearly lost balance and swung over, s
By Alyx on 07.03.2014
Rafters! It’s always rafters! What is your obsession with these little beams that fly overhead, stationary in their arrow like pose, so dusty and inhabited with spiders and rumours of bats? Why? They’re there for support but this is just a bit too much, this obsession with wood that mars the vaulted ceiling that is this house.
By Alyx URL on 07.03.2014
Walking into the old barn she looked up into the rafters and saw the tobacco hanging. Taking a deep breath, she savored the old familiar fall smell of her Uncles farm.
By marylou wynegar URL on 07.03.2014
something shook the rafters. Hamlet …or are this the Swiss family Robinson? or the family of the Australian Tennis player?
By biogeek on 07.03.2014
The rafters were alive with bats: some fluttering from perch to perch, some clustered together like somnolent bunches of grapes
By mrsmig URL on 07.03.2014
exposed to eternity,
hold it like a newborn
in its mother’s arm
By Sappho on 07.03.2014
Can we built rafters, stuck on this lonely island?
Can we assemble them, together, as a team?
Could we cross the sea, just like everybody else before?
Just like they did in those stories.
Isn’t everything a story in the end?
So why can’t we do it like they did?
Let this one hafe a happy ending.
Let us build a rafter, so we can sail amongst the fleet of those who got away.
Let’s sail amongst the free, the glorious.
By BlueRay on 07.03.2014
I rolled out of bed, hoping to bash through the rafters that suffocated me
a place unaware of plugging back my lung function,
viewing the walking darkskinned legs walk by my eyes,
entrapped in a monstrous booby that forgave my memory with pain,
all my might came short when I heaved up to remove the prison rafters,
no shirt, no clothes, bare naked I stood trapped,
as some amusement piece for tribesmen and women,
strolling by with casual feet, at farthest their knees were seen,
were I to make out their faces, I would my grave indebtedness would snap–
snap–snap–a piece of these tied timbers,
to gouge their deaths,
I began to gnaw on the ropes cementing the sturdy logs together,
By Milad URL on 07.03.2014
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.