It’s my favorite feeling: when a really good idea hits me. Almost like I’ve been dumped face-first in a cold bucket of water and the chill is traveling all the way down my back, yet I can’t help but grin.
It’s a Saturday night, and there’s a drunk girl standing on the bar. Her dark hair, still bearing the remnants of a fading dye job, swings back and forth in time with the plastic beaded necklaces on her chest as she gyrates her hips. She can’t see the boy bouncing below her, waving one fist in ...
“Cancer!” My sister shrieked, distraught as she barreled into my room at seven in the morning. “Of course he’s a Cancer!”
I was always an avid daydreamer. I imagined stories for each cloud that drifted past while my little sister stomped around, demanding that I play with her. I barely heard her, barely felt the dampness of the grass pressing into my hair: I was deep in a cloud-inspired imaginary world. For me, reality ...
Solutions by The State News
