Writing-to-Live

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In sun-kissed hues, a radiant sight, Tan skin gleams with golden light. Warmth infused in every cell, A symphony of shades that compel. While pale is praised for its ethereal gleam, Tan skin, too, holds a radiant esteem. Its golden hues, a testament to light, A tapestry that dances in daylight. Bronzed canvas, a masterpiece rare, A testament to sun's affair. Like amber kissed by nature's fire, A palette of warmth, a sunlit desire. Where moonlight bathes in silver's pure embrace, The sun's warm touch adorns tan skin's embrace. No less enchanting, with a golden sheen, It paints a portrait, vibrant and serene. In the morning's first light, as dawn's fingers gently trace, Across the horizon, the sun reveals its grace. And so, too, does tan skin, bathed in golden hue, A masterpiece painted in shades of amber and true. Like honeyed caramel, smooth and sweet to taste, Tan skin exudes a richness, a flavor interlaced. A blend of earth and sunshine, a fusion of delight, A testament to the

Three days have passed since Sarah and Melissa returned from Starpoint and since then Melissa hasn’t left the morgue. She didn’t eat she didn’t sleep she just wasted away staring at her brother’s body on that table hoping for any sign that he was alive. She didn’t care how impossible it was she wanted to believe that he’d wake up. As time passed she became weaker and weaker but no matter what she wouldn’t leave. Unfortunately, the fatigue and hunger became too much to bear and rather slowly she started to fall out of the chair. Her face was inches away from the ground but it never reached thanks to a hand clutching her by the shirt. “H-he’s not gon-n-na wa-ake up.” Elsewhere Sarah laid awake in her bed she couldn’t fall asleep no matter how hard she tried; her mind was restless with thoughts of everything that happened at Starpoint. Sarah looked at her clock and saw it was almost 2 in the morning. Sarah gave up and got out of bed hoping a walk might clear her head. She

[spoken] Doctor: Master! I challenge you to psychic combat. Master: And why should I agree to that, Doctor? Doctor: Why else? To prove you’re the mental giant around here. Master: True. I accept! Doctor: Galactic laws of psychic combat apply? Only to humiliate, never to harm? Master: Don’t be so naïve, Doctor. There are no rules here, and I’m afraid you’ve outgrown your novelty. Today is the day you die. Doctor: So be it. Master: But by all means, you can feel free to follow the rules. Doctor: No, you’re right. No more games. We’re the last of our kind. But I can’t let you continue doing what you’re doing. Master: So what will it be then, Doctor? Doctor: Rehabilitation. The best of the Time Lords will live on through us. Only the best. Master: You haven’t won yet, Doctor. Let us begin! [sung] Master: So it finally comes down to this, Two foes in a battle of mind. Well I promise that you won’t be missed, When I am the last Lord of Time. Doctor: I have no quarrel with you. I’d

Interviewer: Good morning, Mr. Rabbit. Thank you for taking the time to speak with us today. You've certainly had quite the adventure with Mr. McGregor's garden in Beatrix Potter's "The Tale of Peter Rabbit." Can you share with us how your life has changed since then? Peter Rabbit: Good morning, and thank you for having me. Indeed, life has taken some unexpected turns since my days of mischief in Mr. McGregor's garden. These days, I'm an entrepreneur and a proud owner of a successful organic vegetable farm. It's quite a change from my playful days as a bunny, I must say. Interviewer: That's fascinating, Mr. Rabbit. Tell us, what inspired you to pursue a career in farming? Peter Rabbit: Well, after the events in Mr. McGregor's garden, I developed a deep appreciation for nature and its bounties. I realized the importance of healthy, sustainable food and wanted to make a positive impact. So, I invested my time and resources into learning about organic farming practices and started my

For We Are Family By J.C. Solis I’m sorry that you suffered within turn I know how your pain just started to burn I’m happy to hear that you are now well I know words cannot describe your own hell But know that you hurt us back in the past And the scars you left behind will still last You caused us great strife, even up till now And still, you managed to survive somehow But still, just know that, despite these cruel words And all the bitterness that has been heard You are still a part of this family We hated seeing you suffer and bleed For We Are Family, this much is true And hated to see you suffer and rue…

Walking down the sunny city street, Janet was the belle of her own little ball. She wore only the best sunhat and sunflower dress, which fluttered as she walked along the sidewalk in her six-inch Gucci Heels. Janet was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and wasn’t the kind of woman to let this fact go unnoticed. With her matching Gucci handbag, which went with her shoes and dress, she held her overpriced iPhone with her other hand, the light of the screen reflecting off her white-rim sunglasses. “Like, OMG, Courtney, I can’t believe Starbucks was out of my favorite drink! How can they run out of a Grande, Iced, Sugar-Free, Vanilla Latte With Soy Milk? America is SO becoming a third-world country!” Janet texted her absolute bestie, Courtney, on her phone. “OMG, you poor thing! What do we even pay these people for, girl?” Courtney replied back. “Like, for real!” Janet texted back with a look of condescending annoyance plastered all over her face. Yet Janet’s attention was

IX. Adamas sat on the floor cross-legged; his red cloak laid on the bed along with his other things piled on top of it that was already moved from the hanger pole. The small box containing the gloves that Henry made for him and given to him by his son, Darren, laid out opened in front of him and the note was in his paws. He was now wearing his light-brown shirt that Roselyn used the other night while the young woman, herself, was behind the dresser screen, trying on her Sparrow Ranger uniform that Duran had already made for her a year back. Before the beastman could read the note, his thoughts turned to Roselyn over the events that just happened recently. The first thing was her unusual mood change. Getting hugged from her is one thing, but after she opened that door it was like she was rushing out; almost as if she was trying to find him which made no sense as to why. After that, she didn’t feel uncomfortable when she removed his shirt, revealing her undergarments to him, and took