As they were taking a stroll through the park, hand in hand, he looked down at his shoes.
“my shoelace got untied.”
He knelt down to tie his shoes. Next thing she knows, he’s down on one knee holding a little black velvet box.
“Will you marry me?”
he said looking up at her with a smile spreading across his face and hope in his eyes.
“Only if you buy me some fries.” She said with a mischievous look.
“Deal.” He said standing up and planting a kiss firmly on her lips.
I untied my sneakers and walk into their house. This house was the most amazing house I have ever seen, it had a huge kitchen, a huge bathroom, and the most outstanding chandlier hanging from their seiling! I wanted to have a house just like it I was so je
Untied a shoe, that’s what I did. I was in the locker room after gym, and I untied my sneakers to put in my gym locker. Sounds innocent? Well, not to Coach Todd. He thought I was trying to break into someone else’s gym locker. So now I’m in detention, for no reason.
I untied my shoelace, when I untied my shoelace i quickly tied it again. After that I challenged my friend to a race. While we where getting ready he said that he had to tie his shoe, but insted he untied my shoe. While we were racing
If your shoes become untied you are probably going to need to retie them. Especially if you are in gym class, or out of a jog. It is very important your shoes don’t become untied during a physical activity.
United states of america is one of my favorite places in the word all the theme parks the beaches everything is amazing in america my most favorite thing of all there is
The untied animal was very cute and had a lot in common with humans as it was a monkey and that monkeys are very human like in a lot of ways as they are more intelligent and they have fingers and toes.
She sat down and untied her shoes. She had been on her feet all day. Slowly letting her hair down, my breathing all ragged. I stood from my bedroom window watching my beautiful neighbor. All I wanted to do was touch her soft skin and watch her untie her shoes everyday. She sat on her bed putting her untied shoes at the foot of it.
She was pulling Chan by the hand. “Go faster,” Mai cried. “I can’t,” he answered. “My shoe’s untied.” He tugged at her hand to stop and let him ties the shoes. She saw the monster rear its head up behind the building, 50 feet from them. She yanked off Chan’s shoes, threw them aside, picked him up and ran.
In northern Illinois, I was not teaching. I was barely moving, barely breathing. I saw a class offered above the building where they held town hall meetings: Adult Beginner Ballet. I was the youngest student. The women were uncoordinated, clumsy, rotund, and anywhere from sixty to eighty-five. I loved my leggings, my leg warmers, my leotard, my over-the-shoulder sweatshirt that slipped as I twirled faster and faster in order to get warm in a room where we could see our breath. I loved, most of all, my ballet slippers with ribbons that crisscrossed, tied around my ankles. I learned nothing about technique in this class. I knew more, probably, before I entered the door than when I left each week. But I learned, as I untied my shoes, as my massaged bruised toes, how to move again. How to find some kind of bizarre hope every Wednesday morning. I needed to move to remember I was alive. I needed to see my breath in order to keep breathing. I needed proof. I needed bruises and blisters and bloody toenails. I needed all things to unravel, untie. Turn, turn, pick a spot on the wall so I don’t fall. Turn, turn, turn. Faster. I’m alive.
Someone had untied my shoes. “What a terrible thing to do.” I speak out loud. My friends glance at me with a confused look as I knelt down. “What are you doing?” they asked.
I wasted no time. My hands worked as fast as possible to untie all of their shoes. “Stop! Omygosh! Go away! Why?” those words filled our friend group as I stood up again. “Feel my pain,” I say. “If I go down, you’re all going down with me.” A few of them accepted it, and a few still hold a grudge to this day. Know who your real friends are, guys. Untie their shoes.
When your shoe comes untied and its been raining outside. So you walk along the sidewalk and you know you can’t bend down to retie it, so you walk on in agony while your shoelace is sopping wet and covered in the world’s bacteria.
But there is a light at the end of the tunnel!!!!! You finally make it to your car, where you are met face to face with sweet salvation. A place to tie your shoe!!! Alas, it is short lived as you grab your soaked shoe lace and tie your shoe. And now you have enough germs on your hands to kill a thousand men.
Ropes made of worries dig in to my wrists creating lacerations and scrapes. The more I struggle against them the deeper they burrow, sinking into my skin. Sometimes I can stop fighting and just let go
untied
Most of the time I just fight harder.
It is sixth grade year. I had PE first hour and I was as nervous as ever. My PE teacher, Ms. B, assigned us seats to go to after we got dressed. Of course, I was assigned to sit all the way at the top of the bleachers. I dreadfully trudged up the red, seemingly large at the time bleachers. Midway up them I face planted and slid back down them again. My shoe was untied.
he untied me but i didn’t move. i must move but i don’t. this conflict within me keeps me from doing anything and i am stuck and i don;t want to be this way but at the same time being like this feels like i am home, makes me feel comfortable.
I see him go down the lane to catch the boat, a heavy school bag on his shoulder, strong and sure and ready for the world. He has a clear direction he has chosen for himself and the confidence to follow his path. He’s strong and sure and ready, but I’m not, not ready to let him go at all. I will, of course, but I’m not ready and I don’t want to. My son is the best thing that came to me in this life.
United we stand, now and forever.
It’s that line from Quest for Camelot, which my brother says is his favorite movie because “I like adventure.”
That’s who he is.
A kid who likes adventure.
It’s a straightforward explanation for a complex phenomenon.
I tied and untied and retied my shoelaces, over and over again, while the grandfather clock inhaled and exhaled in clicking bursts that rattled every curve and dent of my skull. When I finally stood up, I felt dizzy. I wobbled on my feet, navigating to a wall that would hold me up. Vertigo was one thing, but this felt entirely different. It was as if I were losing touch with gravity itself, and I risked floating off the planet and into the infinite blackness of space.
United my shoes are untied my laces came a part know i have to re tie my shoes
I untied this rope because my cousin wanted to use the boat. He promised to bring it back by the sunset, so i let him take it.
As they were taking a stroll through the park, hand in hand, he looked down at his shoes.
“my shoelace got untied.”
He knelt down to tie his shoes. Next thing she knows, he’s down on one knee holding a little black velvet box.
“Will you marry me?”
he said looking up at her with a smile spreading across his face and hope in his eyes.
“Only if you buy me some fries.” She said with a mischievous look.
“Deal.” He said standing up and planting a kiss firmly on her lips.
I untied my sneakers and walk into their house. This house was the most amazing house I have ever seen, it had a huge kitchen, a huge bathroom, and the most outstanding chandlier hanging from their seiling! I wanted to have a house just like it I was so je
Untied a shoe, that’s what I did. I was in the locker room after gym, and I untied my sneakers to put in my gym locker. Sounds innocent? Well, not to Coach Todd. He thought I was trying to break into someone else’s gym locker. So now I’m in detention, for no reason.
I untied my shoelace, when I untied my shoelace i quickly tied it again. After that I challenged my friend to a race. While we where getting ready he said that he had to tie his shoe, but insted he untied my shoe. While we were racing
If your shoes become untied you are probably going to need to retie them. Especially if you are in gym class, or out of a jog. It is very important your shoes don’t become untied during a physical activity.
United states of america is one of my favorite places in the word all the theme parks the beaches everything is amazing in america my most favorite thing of all there is
The dog came loose because he was untied. That means he ran away from the farm.
Untied was what my shoelace was as I walked down the street to my friends Bobs house. I tripped on my shoelace and fell into a deep dark hole.
The girl has untied shoes on her feet.
Untied is life,my life has untied. I just had it all figured out and all lined up, but then it just untied,unwinded,unrolled.
Untied the knot. It was tied so tight. Took me nearly eight hours to untie it. But finally i got it .
Untied said the man. He was getting untied, finally the rope would be gone! Yay he Screamed with joy!
“United together we will Stand to defeat the evil in this world.”he said
United what a funny word.
United, thats what I thought me and my best friend were together,but I was wrong. She disobeied me, we werent friends anymore.
Untied. That’s what it was. The rope that tied the mclean’s family horse.
“That’s our
I untied myself from the parachute that I was attached to and told the guide for skydiving that it was awesome and that I might come back some day.
The untied animal was very cute and had a lot in common with humans as it was a monkey and that monkeys are very human like in a lot of ways as they are more intelligent and they have fingers and toes.
My captors untied me and asked me where all of the money in the bank was. I told them it was underneath all the desk’s and in the bank vaults.
She sat down and untied her shoes. She had been on her feet all day. Slowly letting her hair down, my breathing all ragged. I stood from my bedroom window watching my beautiful neighbor. All I wanted to do was touch her soft skin and watch her untie her shoes everyday. She sat on her bed putting her untied shoes at the foot of it.
She was pulling Chan by the hand. “Go faster,” Mai cried. “I can’t,” he answered. “My shoe’s untied.” He tugged at her hand to stop and let him ties the shoes. She saw the monster rear its head up behind the building, 50 feet from them. She yanked off Chan’s shoes, threw them aside, picked him up and ran.
In northern Illinois, I was not teaching. I was barely moving, barely breathing. I saw a class offered above the building where they held town hall meetings: Adult Beginner Ballet. I was the youngest student. The women were uncoordinated, clumsy, rotund, and anywhere from sixty to eighty-five. I loved my leggings, my leg warmers, my leotard, my over-the-shoulder sweatshirt that slipped as I twirled faster and faster in order to get warm in a room where we could see our breath. I loved, most of all, my ballet slippers with ribbons that crisscrossed, tied around my ankles. I learned nothing about technique in this class. I knew more, probably, before I entered the door than when I left each week. But I learned, as I untied my shoes, as my massaged bruised toes, how to move again. How to find some kind of bizarre hope every Wednesday morning. I needed to move to remember I was alive. I needed to see my breath in order to keep breathing. I needed proof. I needed bruises and blisters and bloody toenails. I needed all things to unravel, untie. Turn, turn, pick a spot on the wall so I don’t fall. Turn, turn, turn. Faster. I’m alive.
Ropes of confinement are slowly getting untied
I am pretending this isn’t a thing because
WOAH, DUDE, WOAH.
Someone had untied my shoes. “What a terrible thing to do.” I speak out loud. My friends glance at me with a confused look as I knelt down. “What are you doing?” they asked.
I wasted no time. My hands worked as fast as possible to untie all of their shoes. “Stop! Omygosh! Go away! Why?” those words filled our friend group as I stood up again. “Feel my pain,” I say. “If I go down, you’re all going down with me.” A few of them accepted it, and a few still hold a grudge to this day. Know who your real friends are, guys. Untie their shoes.
When your shoe comes untied and its been raining outside. So you walk along the sidewalk and you know you can’t bend down to retie it, so you walk on in agony while your shoelace is sopping wet and covered in the world’s bacteria.
But there is a light at the end of the tunnel!!!!! You finally make it to your car, where you are met face to face with sweet salvation. A place to tie your shoe!!! Alas, it is short lived as you grab your soaked shoe lace and tie your shoe. And now you have enough germs on your hands to kill a thousand men.
Ropes made of worries dig in to my wrists creating lacerations and scrapes. The more I struggle against them the deeper they burrow, sinking into my skin. Sometimes I can stop fighting and just let go
untied
Most of the time I just fight harder.
It is sixth grade year. I had PE first hour and I was as nervous as ever. My PE teacher, Ms. B, assigned us seats to go to after we got dressed. Of course, I was assigned to sit all the way at the top of the bleachers. I dreadfully trudged up the red, seemingly large at the time bleachers. Midway up them I face planted and slid back down them again. My shoe was untied.
We used to be united, a country for all men,
But now we are untied, a ghost of what has been.
I like to wear crocs over tennis shoes because crocs are never untied.
djidjfijffu
(͡• ͜ʖ ͡•) maybe baby
he untied me but i didn’t move. i must move but i don’t. this conflict within me keeps me from doing anything and i am stuck and i don;t want to be this way but at the same time being like this feels like i am home, makes me feel comfortable.
I see him go down the lane to catch the boat, a heavy school bag on his shoulder, strong and sure and ready for the world. He has a clear direction he has chosen for himself and the confidence to follow his path. He’s strong and sure and ready, but I’m not, not ready to let him go at all. I will, of course, but I’m not ready and I don’t want to. My son is the best thing that came to me in this life.
United we stand, now and forever.
It’s that line from Quest for Camelot, which my brother says is his favorite movie because “I like adventure.”
That’s who he is.
A kid who likes adventure.
It’s a straightforward explanation for a complex phenomenon.
keep the chairs to the sides
rope wont hold
tongues searing at the edges
but your hands are soft
i wring mine too tight.
I untied my shoes and ran. The grass felt soft under my feet, the air so fresh. Oh! It was such bliss. I couldn’t help smiling.
Not tied; undone…all I have to say…nothin’ here to see, move along civilian, ye’ got nothin’ to see here…NOTHING!
I tied and untied and retied my shoelaces, over and over again, while the grandfather clock inhaled and exhaled in clicking bursts that rattled every curve and dent of my skull. When I finally stood up, I felt dizzy. I wobbled on my feet, navigating to a wall that would hold me up. Vertigo was one thing, but this felt entirely different. It was as if I were losing touch with gravity itself, and I risked floating off the planet and into the infinite blackness of space.
My sisters and Mom always untied their hair at night to sleep but I can’t.