Parker fixated on the envelope's precise penmanship as she lifted it. Her grandmother rarely took the time to write her own name in the return address, let alone give it the aesthetic attention that this one so seemed to demand. Once, when Parker questioned her on this, her grandmother casually asserted that she "didn't quite believe in envelopes" as if this were a debatable concept like Socialism or wearing white after Labor Day.
Abby SlovinTag: humor humor-inspirational
Fact is just fiction with different storytellers
Abby SlovinThe smell of burning firewood and the molding of organic, earthy substances reminded her of jumping wildly into the enormous leaf piles of autumns past and she suddenly wished that it was appropriate for someone her age to do such a thing.
Abby SlovinIn the distance, they could see the headlights from cars crossing the bridges like fireflies swarming the streets toward home.
Abby SlovinShe inhaled deep breaths filled with salty air and watched the moon cast streaks across the rippling river, unable to determine in which direction it flowed or where it went, but suddenly curious about it for the first time.
Abby SlovinShe sat on the stoop alone, gazing up at an infinite sky as it held her and pushed her away all at once.
Abby SlovinShe let go and yet for the first time did not feel she was giving up.
Abby SlovinAt a time when Parker might have craved the comfort of certainty, she instead held tight to her wavering thoughts; To the gravity and thrill of a new adventure; To the promise of everything and nothing all at once.
Abby SlovinShe was now on her way to an old world that was nothing but new to her.
Abby SlovinFinally, a bold announcement across the screen declared The End. ... She resent it, The End. She resented the silence that followed such a declarative statement.
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