The Radley Place jutted into a sharp curve beyond our house. Walking south, one faced its porch; the sidewalk turned and ran beside the lot. The house was low, was once white with a deep front porch and green shutters, but had long ago darkened to the color of the slate-gray yard around it. Rain-rotted shingles drooped over the eaves of the veranda; oak trees kept the sun away. The remains of a picket drunkenly guarded the front yard -- a "swept" yard that was never swept -- where johnson grass and rabbit-tobacco grew in abundance.
Inside the house lived a malevolent phantom. People said he existed, but Jem and I had never seen him. People said he went out at night when the moon was down, and peeped in windows. When people's azaleas froze in a cold snap, it was because he had breathed on them. Any stealthy small crimes committed in Maycomb were his work. Once the town was terrorized by a series of morbid-nocturnal events; people's chickens and household pets were found mutilated; although the culprit was Crazy Addie, who eventually drowned himself in Barker's Eddy, people still looked at the Radley Place unwilling to discard their initial suspicions. A Negro would not pass the Radley Place at night, he would cut across to the sidewalk opposite and whistle as he walked. The Maycomb school grounds adjoined the back of the Radley lot; from the Radley chickenyard tall pecan trees shook their fruit into the schoolyard, but the nuts lay untouched by the children; Radley pecans would kill you. A baseball hit into the Radley yard was a lost ball and no questions asked.
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Navjot Sandhu
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Everyone loves it,its comfy,warm and welcoming-our living room. The cherry colored wooden floor goes just right with the fireplace. We never used the fireplace even though there are 5 rectangular wooden pieces placed for use. Just above it, hangs a picture of all four of us. By us I mean my family,I am on the farther left,next to me my mom,then dad, and to the farther right is my dad. That memory is captured in a Silver Leafy Frame. The frame itself is not straight,it has twists and turns like a roller coaster. If we move to right there is a window its white a square with pale brown curtains. The furniture is comfy,you can sleep on it when you are exhausted.For us whenever we are tried we just lay on the light brown sofa. The sofas hold the warmth in the room.As you lay on it,you feel like a baby laying in his mothers arms. The sofa has two pieces on can hold up to 4 people and the other one can hold two. The one which can hold two is right across from the squared window. The brownish gold table is surrounded with the sofas like mountains surrounding a city. To keep the our feet from getting cold,there is a rug placed underneath the sofas and table. It has maroon background with golden,green. design on it. Sometimes the rug looks like it has mangoes,but other times it looks like it has exotic people dancing. The rug only covers up some area but not all. So,when we have to turn on our TV,you have cross through the cold Antarctic. The wooden floor gets cold and when we place our feet on it,I can feel the temperature changing in my feet. The TV though is black color,it is about 45 inches tall and 36 inches in width.No entertainment set or anything,just a TV.If we look at all the walls they are either covered up with my family pictures or religious pictures. My dad as fond of animals and plants has Scindapsus going around our walls like a green snake.In a corner there is a table with a maroon lamp which we never use. It has no purpose except to be a decorative piece. Right across there are cultural pictures: there is one with golden Frame and a punjabi girl wearing the traditional dress and dancing. There is another on right diagonal to it,which shows punjabi and states famous quote. One more pictures hangs diagonal to the second one it has traditional musical instruments. On the ceiling like stars there are light in form of a circle. The control line is near the door we enter from. And as we enter the door we can sense the culture,the warmth and comfy feeling.
It was heart shaking as I stare at my grandpa cemetery. Its surrounding was ton of tomb stones that was there for few years but they seemed like they were there for centuries. The silent and loneliness frightened me as I stand next to my grandpa alone. However, at the same time, this quietness gave me a weird tumbling feeling of safe where nobody noticed me. It was the easiest place that I was able to let go of my tear and angriness that had stacked inside my mind and brain for a long time waiting to explode. It was the time to talk to my grandpa and remember the time we have not talk for many years. The only best friend I had when I was a little girl.
ReplyDeleteThere is a world beyond our own. This world may not exist in the physical realm, but in the realm of the mind this is a continuously expanding universe. This world is of Warcraft. In the land of Azeroth there are warriors and wizards, magic and mayhem and the dead and the living. In this world there are monsters in every cave, stalkers in every town and worst of all, great evils dominating the land. Where the is bad there is good. Where there are no hunters, hungry for your blood, there are people enjoying a local tavern or participating in commerce within the capital cities. The world of warcraft is a place for a holy crusade or the annihilation of an entire species. Azeroth is filled with lush forests and desolate deserts.
ReplyDeleteIt's the club house I've always wanted. It's the room I never had, painted aquatic blue. It's my get away place. It's the special place in where I first realized I liked you. With its majestic aqua blue walls and the deep sea blue ceiling its my pool of tranquility. Everything is in its rightful place, a pile of dirty clothes shoved to a corner, unused toy boxes up to the sky. Old cleaning supplies scattered in shelves, abandoned bike parts leaning against a broken door. Two large sofas filled with dust bunnies. The faint print of tile on the beat down floor. I feel so at home when alone in my garage. Its gone through many fazes the actual purpose itself to park a broken down, dying car, then the humble home of a family of three and last but not least our unofficial official bedroom, art and music studio a homework center, and shelter for battered children. I like it here. So much that I've come to love it with a passion, it holds so many memories that will forever be with me. Like the time I awoke from from deep slumber only to find that the door had been left open and the rain water found itself in. Or the time I had a few freinds come over only play a few kick back games on my old nintendo. I'm not the only one that benefits from this water spring, all six of my other siblings take advantage and exploit the usage of our garage, creating foul stenches inside or near by. However, there is no doubt in my mind that the day will come where the use of my "pool" for imagination will ever become obsolete.
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