I walked in to see my clothes scattered across the living room. I moved forward with a caution that I’d never exercised in my own home. Your home is supposed to be your sanctuary; a place of safety. You’re supposed to be able to be your truest self behind these walls. My eyes glanced over the house, taking in each item of clothing. A shirt draped over the back of my kitchen chair. A lone shoe on its side in the hall. I kept moving forward and stopped at the end of the narrow, carpeted corridor in front of jacket that I did not recognize. As I bent down to pick it up, I laid eyes on her: Charlotte. “What the fuck are you doing here, Char?” It came out much louder than I anticipated.
They gathered and scattered. The fire was roaring. They were caught between their house and the back fences that divided their friendship. They said their goodbyes and said prayers for one another. Packing their people in their cars and driving away from the box they called their homes. Both families going far away from the fire that was threating to destroy the only place their littles had ever known as home. The children were silent, it was deafening to his ears. He was use to hearing the chattered and banter of both the boys and girls fighting for the coveted seat by the window in the back behind the driver, yet et not today. The pure silence was all he could hear all he could feel. Fear was rolling around in the car, not with words but in spirit. He said a silent prayer as he reached for the hand of his wife of 15 years. They had never been through a life-threatening disaster in all the years they had been married. And even though he knew his house was only a place to hold his loved ones and that those loved ones were safe with him he still felt the fear of driving away and seeing the fire in the hills approaching the house they called home. He had to stop looking back and he realized he needed to focus on the future. A future where he could get them all to safety and a future where he could lean on the faith that had carried him through the loss of parents, a sibling, a job and almost his marriage early on. He knew his faith was bigger than the fire. He knew that the significance of fire from the standpoint of faith. But at this very moment, he had to concentrate on getting all his family to safety and taking one moment as it comes and let the next moment arrive on its own without him jumping into it before it’s time.
the papers from bursting fire crackers lie scattered around the play ground. This is one of the many things that are inherent in celebrating deepavali, trashing everything in the name of culture!!
Pages are scattered on the floor, along with all his ridiculous desk top instruments. Like the thing with the wheel that he never understood how to work, and the long pointer that he would sometimes use to demonstrate a point on the chalkboard and then slap down on his desk when he was done. They’re all bloodied now, but could probably still work.
They scattered like leaves when she approached. Her power had come early, and her power had come strong. A whole house levelled, everything in a hundred yards flattened. Two days before anyone dared approach the crying toddler wandering in the devastation left behind.
There had been wind for days, a prelude to Spring, but it had left leaves and branches scattered everywhere. The lawn and footpaths were buried and unnavigable, it seemed the wilderness had invaded this suburb; if left untouched it would prevail and humans would be barricaded behind obstacles unable to bond together to fight it back.
Everything is so scattered in my mind. Pick up this mess. Stop letting things in that don’t belong here. Things are everywhere, why won’t you do anything about it? You are all over the place.
The dishes were scattered all over the kitchen. It was the thing she hated most to come home to: a messy kitchen. She wondered why she hadn’t bothered to clean the kitchen before she left. At the very least she could have collected the dirty dishes and put them in the sink.
The pieces of his skin broke apart and scattered on the wind. He did not know how he was breathing, not as the flecks of skin began to fall into heaps, revealing the skin underneath. And he tried to scream, but he couldn’t.
He didn’t have lungs anymore.
They toys were strewn across the floor. The little girl sat in the middle of them, crying for mickey mouse. Panicked, her mother dug around the stacks of ponies, teddy bears, cars, and action figures until she found the desired toy. Trying to remember what they had learned earlier that day at the clinic, her mother held out the toy and said “mickey mouse.” When her daughter grabbed for it, mother held on tight. It took all her willpower not to yield to her crying child. “You can say it,” mother begged through gritted teeth. “Mickey mouse.”
“Mouse,” echoed her daughter through sobs. Mother let go.
She looked around her living room. The contents of her cupboards were lying scattered on the floor. All drawers were emptied, the pillows were slashed, even the sofa was ruined. Whoever wanted to find something in her flat did a thorough search.
All she could remember were the scattered memories left behind her as she moved from her uncomfortable surroundings to her now place of comfort and peace.
when i came home from school my little brother had all of his legos scattered across the floor and i told him to pick them upt but he just kept pooring them all on the along with scattered legos there were puzzle peices
Scattered all around her were the bodies of her loved ones. Mother, father, brothers, and sisters. How could she help? They were all dead. She needed help. The shocked of what she was seeing caused her to freeze in her tracks Who could have done this? Why would they have done this? Was she safe just standing there wondering?
Scattered. Everything she had worked so very hard for lied scattered around her feet. Broken into a million, fragile pieces that she had to step over in order to progress further. Because that was life, that was her life.
things seem scattered but I guess they are all in place and all it requires is to see it from a focused perspective. Our thoughts always drive the point home and we need a vision to analyse them
what a brilliant word to start with. my brain, my thoughts, my life are all in this state now. that’s why probably they say the universe is an echo of yourself. if you want something you have to first say what you want
My thoughts may be focused, but my emotions have been scattered and cast into the wind. In its whimsical frenzy the wind occasionally returns them to me if only for a brief second, reminding me of sensations otherwise long forgotten. On a swift breeze they come and go, never long enough to take root, and never swift enough to be ignored.
This morning when I sat down to write, I realized my thoughts are scattered everywhere, just like the clothes on my bed. Ergo, I began to organize my bed.
The leaves scattered in the wind, blown away by the sheer force of the gale. She shut her eyes against the cruel, cold gust. She sheltered her body, scrunching in closer.
Every piece of me has been separated across all seven seas. If you wish to find all of me, you will need to search far and wide. You will need to fly, sail, swim, hike, crawl, and trek your way up mountains, through valleys, across rivers, and over cooling clouds. If you happen to find the key elements first, then perhaps the rest of me will be less reluctant to join them. It will take time, as well as patience, which I hope you have.
THe leaves were scattered on the lawn. There were so many beautiful colors and there were even more shapes. The trees seemed unaware of their nakedness but the beholder was totallh in awe of nature’s beauty. Autumn is magical!
The leaves scattered in the breeze. I watched as the trees swayed in wind and around the bushes. I have no thoughts to consider, only peace resides in me.
I walked in to see my clothes scattered across the living room. I moved forward with a caution that I’d never exercised in my own home. Your home is supposed to be your sanctuary; a place of safety. You’re supposed to be able to be your truest self behind these walls. My eyes glanced over the house, taking in each item of clothing. A shirt draped over the back of my kitchen chair. A lone shoe on its side in the hall. I kept moving forward and stopped at the end of the narrow, carpeted corridor in front of jacket that I did not recognize. As I bent down to pick it up, I laid eyes on her: Charlotte. “What the fuck are you doing here, Char?” It came out much louder than I anticipated.
They gathered and scattered. The fire was roaring. They were caught between their house and the back fences that divided their friendship. They said their goodbyes and said prayers for one another. Packing their people in their cars and driving away from the box they called their homes. Both families going far away from the fire that was threating to destroy the only place their littles had ever known as home. The children were silent, it was deafening to his ears. He was use to hearing the chattered and banter of both the boys and girls fighting for the coveted seat by the window in the back behind the driver, yet et not today. The pure silence was all he could hear all he could feel. Fear was rolling around in the car, not with words but in spirit. He said a silent prayer as he reached for the hand of his wife of 15 years. They had never been through a life-threatening disaster in all the years they had been married. And even though he knew his house was only a place to hold his loved ones and that those loved ones were safe with him he still felt the fear of driving away and seeing the fire in the hills approaching the house they called home. He had to stop looking back and he realized he needed to focus on the future. A future where he could get them all to safety and a future where he could lean on the faith that had carried him through the loss of parents, a sibling, a job and almost his marriage early on. He knew his faith was bigger than the fire. He knew that the significance of fire from the standpoint of faith. But at this very moment, he had to concentrate on getting all his family to safety and taking one moment as it comes and let the next moment arrive on its own without him jumping into it before it’s time.
the papers from bursting fire crackers lie scattered around the play ground. This is one of the many things that are inherent in celebrating deepavali, trashing everything in the name of culture!!
Pages are scattered on the floor, along with all his ridiculous desk top instruments. Like the thing with the wheel that he never understood how to work, and the long pointer that he would sometimes use to demonstrate a point on the chalkboard and then slap down on his desk when he was done. They’re all bloodied now, but could probably still work.
They scattered like leaves when she approached. Her power had come early, and her power had come strong. A whole house levelled, everything in a hundred yards flattened. Two days before anyone dared approach the crying toddler wandering in the devastation left behind.
My biscuits in the drawer were scattered all over. One usually feels scattered after a breakup.
SCATTERED
THIS COULD STAND FOR THINGS NOT BEING IN THE ORDER THEY SHOULD BE. IT COULD ALSO MEAN LIGHT BOUNCING AWAY FROM SURFACES IN PHYSICS.
There had been wind for days, a prelude to Spring, but it had left leaves and branches scattered everywhere. The lawn and footpaths were buried and unnavigable, it seemed the wilderness had invaded this suburb; if left untouched it would prevail and humans would be barricaded behind obstacles unable to bond together to fight it back.
Everything is so scattered in my mind. Pick up this mess. Stop letting things in that don’t belong here. Things are everywhere, why won’t you do anything about it? You are all over the place.
The champagne bottle explodes.
We are found in sky, in the puddles;
in the bubbles floating to die on the surface.
But we are golden, sunshine rays
overflowing, falling wild,
tumbling with no concept of the impact,
pending.
Disappearing.
This moment will not come again.
These selves will metamorphose.
This moment will not come again.
It bubbles, with our laughter, to the surface,
disappearing,
and we are left with pieces in our hands.
The dishes were scattered all over the kitchen. It was the thing she hated most to come home to: a messy kitchen. She wondered why she hadn’t bothered to clean the kitchen before she left. At the very least she could have collected the dirty dishes and put them in the sink.
The pieces of his skin broke apart and scattered on the wind. He did not know how he was breathing, not as the flecks of skin began to fall into heaps, revealing the skin underneath. And he tried to scream, but he couldn’t.
He didn’t have lungs anymore.
They toys were strewn across the floor. The little girl sat in the middle of them, crying for mickey mouse. Panicked, her mother dug around the stacks of ponies, teddy bears, cars, and action figures until she found the desired toy. Trying to remember what they had learned earlier that day at the clinic, her mother held out the toy and said “mickey mouse.” When her daughter grabbed for it, mother held on tight. It took all her willpower not to yield to her crying child. “You can say it,” mother begged through gritted teeth. “Mickey mouse.”
“Mouse,” echoed her daughter through sobs. Mother let go.
She looked around her living room. The contents of her cupboards were lying scattered on the floor. All drawers were emptied, the pillows were slashed, even the sofa was ruined. Whoever wanted to find something in her flat did a thorough search.
All she could remember were the scattered memories left behind her as she moved from her uncomfortable surroundings to her now place of comfort and peace.
Toys lay scattered everywhere, like a battlefield of velveteen soldiers, bodies strewn among the detritus of abandoned adolescent outfits.
when i came home from school my little brother had all of his legos scattered across the floor and i told him to pick them upt but he just kept pooring them all on the along with scattered legos there were puzzle peices
Scattered all around her were the bodies of her loved ones. Mother, father, brothers, and sisters. How could she help? They were all dead. She needed help. The shocked of what she was seeing caused her to freeze in her tracks Who could have done this? Why would they have done this? Was she safe just standing there wondering?
Scattered. Everything she had worked so very hard for lied scattered around her feet. Broken into a million, fragile pieces that she had to step over in order to progress further. Because that was life, that was her life.
things seem scattered but I guess they are all in place and all it requires is to see it from a focused perspective. Our thoughts always drive the point home and we need a vision to analyse them
what a brilliant word to start with. my brain, my thoughts, my life are all in this state now. that’s why probably they say the universe is an echo of yourself. if you want something you have to first say what you want
My thoughts may be focused, but my emotions have been scattered and cast into the wind. In its whimsical frenzy the wind occasionally returns them to me if only for a brief second, reminding me of sensations otherwise long forgotten. On a swift breeze they come and go, never long enough to take root, and never swift enough to be ignored.
This morning when I sat down to write, I realized my thoughts are scattered everywhere, just like the clothes on my bed. Ergo, I began to organize my bed.
scattered
memories
like pieces of tile
blown from the demolition of this very
home
the demolition of every thing i knew
and thought i knew
The leaves scattered in the wind, blown away by the sheer force of the gale. She shut her eyes against the cruel, cold gust. She sheltered her body, scrunching in closer.
Every piece of me has been separated across all seven seas. If you wish to find all of me, you will need to search far and wide. You will need to fly, sail, swim, hike, crawl, and trek your way up mountains, through valleys, across rivers, and over cooling clouds. If you happen to find the key elements first, then perhaps the rest of me will be less reluctant to join them. It will take time, as well as patience, which I hope you have.
THe leaves were scattered on the lawn. There were so many beautiful colors and there were even more shapes. The trees seemed unaware of their nakedness but the beholder was totallh in awe of nature’s beauty. Autumn is magical!
The leaves scattered in the breeze. I watched as the trees swayed in wind and around the bushes. I have no thoughts to consider, only peace resides in me.