Old Love BY PAT MORA When my aunt died my uncle raised his hands like a prophet in the Bible. I have lost my girl he said, I have lost my girl over and over, shaking his head. I didn't know what to say where to look my quiet uncle raising his voice to silence. My aunt was eighty-seven. Listen, my uncle said, sighing like a tree alone at night, women know. Every midnight on New Year's Eve, when others sang and laughed and hugged your aunt looked at me, tears in her eyes. Sixty years. She knew. One day, we'd kiss good-bye
Snow BY LOUIS MACNEICE The room was suddenly rich and the great bay window was Spawning snow and pink roses against it Soundlessly collateral and incompatible World is suddener than we fancy it. World is crazier and more of it than we think, Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion A tangerine and spit the pips and feel The drunkenness of things being various. And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one's hands There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.
My Doggy Ate My Essay BY DARREN SARDELLI My doggy ate my essay. He picked up all my mail. He cleaned my dirty closet and dusted with his tail. He straightened out my posters and swept my wooden floor. My parents almost fainted when he fixed my bedroom door. I did not try to stop him. He made my windows shine. My room looked like a palace, and my dresser smelled like pine. He fluffed up every pillow. He folded all my clothes. He even cleaned my fish tank with a toothbrush and a hose. I thought it was amazing to see him use a broom. I’m glad he ate my essay on How to Clean My Room.
No lines are longer than 80 characters, TYVM. Other specified properties aren't being scored automatically at this time so this is not necessarily good news...