Month: January 2024

Baking is something I’ve always loved doing since I was little. Ever since I first stepped into the kitchen, I’ve been hooked on experimenting with different recipes and things by immersing myself in the world of baking different things. It’s become a significant part of my routine, measuring ingredients, looking up different recipes, and trying out new ways to bake and cook.

I remember when the quarantine started I started to bake lots of things by myself and with my sister and it was a good hobby when I wanted to do something entertaining.

 

Snow light frozen unique,

Bringing cold joy to everyone around,

Some prefer the warm,

Sitting down reading writing,

A nice cup of hot chocolate beside me,

A hot water bottle underneath my blanket,

I cannot wait for summer

In my personal response writing I will talk about ice skating.

When you glide on the ice, it’s like if you were flying. You’re in your own world, and it’s just you, the ice, and the music. It feels so free! And the way you can do all those spins and jumps with a lot of elegance and precision, it’s seriously impressive.

Now we should talk about the outfits because they’re amazing. They’re always so beautiful and sparkly. It’s like you’re a princess on ice. But, it’s not just about the glitter and glam. Ice skating takes a lot of hard work and dedication. You have to be strong, both physically and mentally. Falling is part of the process, but you just have to pick yourself up and keep going. It’s also a great way to hang out with friends. Whether you’re just skating around for fun or practicing for a competition, it’s always more fun when you’re with your friends.

In a small, bustling city, far from the rolling hills of her childhood, lived a girl named Amara. With each passing day, she yearned for the familiar sights and sounds of her old home, the scent of her mother’s cooking, and the cozy warmth of her bed. Memories of laughter-filled evenings and the comfort of her family’s presence haunted her. But as the seasons changed, so did Amara. With resilience in her heart and determination in her eyes, she embarked on a journey to create a new home, carrying the love and cherished memories of her past as she embraced the unknown.

This feeling that I had never had before, crying for a girl just before bed. Friends’ helping us to be together.

Recently, I had a new understanding of love. It’s not from my family but I enjoy it so much with this girl which I had barely talked with, has become one of the most important people of my life. I had never stayed up so late just to chat with a girl, I had never been with my friends only talking about her, I had never cried for a girl, I had never confessed to a girl. When everything seemed impossible I did it. This girl that I treasured is now who I adore.

I adore this girl and I don’t really care about how people think of us, we just need to be who we are and be with each other and we’re happy enough to live.  I know that it might seem weird or bad to be in love when you are in school but because of her cleverness she helped me improved, as we would study together talk about everything together, knowing how each other’s day went. And I enjoy it A LOT. Even though it’s the first time for the both of us, we enjoy it and love each other.

As a Canadien people often make jokes about “us” being used to the cold, and that we go snow diving in our ginch. Zoomed in from “Canadien” to “Metchosonite” I have never experienced a “true cold winter” compared to other provinces in Canada. The coldest winter I’v experienced is maybe -6 or -7 (with windchill), that is until this winter. With Arctic outflow it’s gone as low as -19/20 (with windchill), and I’m freezing.

Don’t judge a book by its cover. Don’t judge a Canadien by their province.

In Mexico’s embrace, the sun’s fiery kiss,

Desert landscapes echo tales of bliss.

Ancient pyramids rise with silent might,

Whispers of history dance in the night.

Mariachi melodies, guitars strummed with glee,

Vibrant colors adorn each jubilant spree.

From Chiapas to Chihuahua, a diverse song,

Mountains and beaches where dreams belong.

Tequila sunsets paint the western sky,

A symphony of cultures, a nation’s lullaby.

Persephone was only going to be out of the underworld for a few days as a gift from hades so she could see her friends and family. Cyane rolled her eyes as she shivered at the thought. Who was Hades to think he could grant her such trivial freedom as if she were a dog on a leash? And to a powerful goddess no less!? Someone who could take care of herself better than anyone Cyane knew. Her cheeks grew red at the thought of Persephone. NO! Cyane shook the thought of her out of her head as if she believed she would never think of her again. Never again. No one would ever treat her like that again. Again she shivered with emotion, goose bumps spreading along her arms and legs. Ironically the sudden appearance of Persephone had left her feeling colder among the summer waves of the sun. But regardless she didn’t intend on running into Persephone again while she was still in the overworld. I don’t think she could handle another encounter with Persephone. She thought as she wandered on the riverbank. The moss on the floor was cool on her feet and the shade felt lighter on her skin, almost like a shield from the gods where they couldn’t see her cry. She decided to take a break from her walk in a pothole of the river, shaded by the long oak trees. The cold shock of the water slowly enveloping her hair and body as her long hair became lighter in the water. The water felt surprisingly colder than her usually spot of warm sunlit water. At least no one would be here to bother her.

After a moment Cyane began hear the faint whisper of voices in the distance, masked by the low rush of the river. Well that was the end of her peace and quiet. But despite her annoyance at the untimely interruption, her curiosity drew her closer to the rising voices. As Cyane swam closer, keeping her head close to the water as she quietly swam her way through the water to get a closer look. Suddenly a stroke of huge black wings behind the foliage of the forest floor took her attention. “Your promised time is up Princess Its time for you to return or so help me i will resort to other methods!” A strained deep voice whispered harshly. “Leave me be” another voice whispered louder, her voice slightly clamored by the rush or the river. “I promise I will return but I really must let my mother know I am fine so let me g-“. “NO” the deep voice interjected louder “I told you yesterday that today was the last day so there can be no more delays” he said in a quieter voice. There was a notable silence that made Cyane uncomfortable. Did they leave? Was that person okay? Her curiosity grew only to be interrupted by a quiet yell. “no”. “WHAT DID YOU SAY” The deeper voice erupted as another flare of black wings sent the birds above flying. “I said NO!!” the other voice shot back “I am your queen now you must treat me as so!”. The deeper voice cackle loudly, a rude sound to hear. “Listen princess you may be his ‘queen’ but your sweet ass can forget about ever having a shred my respect”. Cyane’s drama driven brain was so caught out in the dialogue. Who were these people?! Even the way they spoke made her think these voices weren’t even mortals. Maybe they were some minor gods or goddesses. Or maybe a fellow nymph, however most river nymphs and dryads lived closer to Olympus do it was unl- “AUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH” Cyane screamed in pain. She was bitten! Cyane splasher around to find the villain who so viciously bit her finger. “Aughhhh you are So DEAD” She screamed at the water.

The voices became quiet and suddenly the only thing she could hear was the rush of the water. “Who was that?” The deeper voice slithered, reminding Cyane of Daphne. Okay Cyane thought What the hell. Not wanting to get sucked into the drama Cyane stayed quiet, lowering her head deeper into the water. Maybe if she didn’t attract attention as stayed quiet maybe they would overlook her. ” Whatever you’re coming with me NOW” the deep voice hissed. Oh no!                     “WAIT!’ Cyane screamed, a different register of voice seeping into hers. What am I doing? Her arms pulled herself out of the cold water as her long hair stuck to her body heavily. As if automatically she slowly walked toward the voices her toes quietly making their way towards them. It was almost as if a surge of confidence and what felt like a subtle anger swept over her. As she turned around a tree to see the face to the wings, her hand traced over the bark of the tree. “Well well Thanatos you have some nerve to talk to a lady like that” the eerie voice slithered out of Cyane.

This holiday was extraordinary. From the first day I arrived, my two older sisters, and my parents received me at the airport at seven o’clock with so many balloons. I thought I was gonna fly like in the movie Up.

The next day, my dad organized a surprise party to welcome me. He brought a stand of tacos to the house and mariachis, it was a very pleasant surprise. That same night one of my best friends, Valeria, came into my house to bring me flowers, and we head out to a party, with both of my sisters, their boyfriends, which to be honest are like my brothers, and two of my closest friends, Vale and Vickychela. Vicky invited all of us to continue partying in another place with her, but it was late and we had to go back home.

On the 3rd day, I drove to Chapala, for family work, and Tlaquepaque for a posada, it was a really tiring day. On The 4th day Paola, another friend, came by surprise to say hi, and gave me a card and a Christmas present, I started to cry. I just considered myself so lucky to have such nice friends.

That week, I went to Tequila too! It was so fun to drive there, we arrived and ate something and went back to Guadalajara, and suddenly it was Christmas and Ines’s birthday, all of us celebrated her so much! The next day one of my friends invited me and my whole family to ride horses, we ate at my favorite restaurant, and I saw my junior high school besties at Dany’s birthday dinner.

On the last day in Guadalajara, my friends asked me what I wanted to do before I went back to Canada, so they took me to the zoo! All of a sudden 2023 was gone… and even though it was hard, I packed my things to go to Puerto Vallarta, where I would grab my plane to arrive here. We stayed there four days, where my parents only pampered me and made me feel so loved.

It was time to come back, even though I wasn’t that excited. I said goodbye to my family and all of them started crying, magically I didn’t, but what I didn’t know was, that once on the plane, when I was trying to grab some gum, I saw a cute pink notebook, with letters of my mom, dad and both of my sisters. I wouldn’t say this was my favorite Christmas, but this easily makes the top 10!

I wrapped a scarf around my neck and swiftly pulled it tight to fit snugly. After struggling momentarily with putting on my gloves, I shoved a light blue hat with a giant pom-pom onto my head. I yelled a lazy farewell to my father as I shut our heavy wooden door; it closed with a loud squeak from the rusty, worn hinges. I walked down the small concrete pathway that led to the road. My snow boots crashed onto the layer of ice, trying to grip on with all their might. But alas, on my third step from the wooden front door, the grip of my boot let go, and my skills in falling were my only defense left to rescue me from injury. I crashed onto my back, narrowly avoiding cracking my head open. As I sat on the icy-covered concrete, I contemplated why I lived in Canada. Finally, I got back, groaning, of course, as my back had struck the concrete with an unexpected amount of force. After such an experience, I felt no desire to continue residing outside. Promptly, I reopened the front door and decided the inside was better for me. I took off my copious layers of gloves, hats, socks, and sweaters to go complain to my dad as to why we did not live in a warmer country.

Three very powerful monks adopted a very small and peculiar puppy. This puppy had black fur and two itty bitty horns on its head. The puppy was given the name Obro and the monks used their mystical powers to teach Obro how to speak and think like them. Obro stayed with the monks for days, and those days turned into weeks, and those weeks into years. Suddenly Obro found himself as a teen and started to question the ways of the monks. For example, once a year the monks would enter a glowing white door and commanded Obro to wait for them until they returned the next day. Obro decided to ask the monks what was behind the glowing white door “What is behind the glowing white door?” he said. The monks stared and him in silence until all three of them simultaneously answered “We cannot tell you, for you are not a monk”. Obro then asked them how to become a monk and the three laughed and chanted “TO BECOME A MONK YOU MUST COUNT EVERY GRAIN OF SAND AND EVERY BLADE OF GRASS IN THE WORLD”. Obro was shocked with disbelief but then again he had nothing better to do and so he learned a mystical spell to make him live longer and then set off. 100 years later Obro returned to the monks and told them the his answer. “Very good, that is correct, follow us” the monks were pleased and led Obro to the door. When Obro saw what was inside, every question that he had ever had was answered, he could never have imagined something like this could exist, he was in awe. Now, would you like to know what was behind that white door? I cannot tell you for you are not a monk.

Ever since I remember I have hate hot weather. When I was little I decided that I didn’t like hot weather at all and all this because there are so many cons that the hot weather comes with, for example, extreme temperatures and that makes people being in a bad mood. I also don’t like the beach that much, I prefer mountains or cities instead and they are cooler. I hate the felling of the sun in my skin, I hate sweating, I hate the felling of stickiness on my arms for using sunscreen, I don’t like at all hot weather or anything related to being hot. I mean, who really likes feeling hot?, who likes to sweat? that’s super disgusting and in my personal opinion cold is so much better than hot. Cold weather is better because you can do so much activities like skiing, snowboarding, ice skating in a real frozen lake, hiking, etc, things that of course you can’t do in hot weather and I know it also has fun things but you can just put on a jacket and a scarf and forget about cold, instead of being sweaty and in a bad mood all day long. To conclude, cold is three thousand times better that hot.

𝚄𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚍,
𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗’𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚍.
𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛,
𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜, 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎

𝙰𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚜, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚍,
𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚍.
𝙵𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚛,
𝚈𝚎𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗-𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛.

𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝,
𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝.
𝚃𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗, 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚗.
𝙰𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜, 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎

𝙰𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚣𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜,
𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜,
𝙸𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚜, 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚍.
𝙾𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚛, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍, 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚡𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚍.
𝚄𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗,
𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗
𝙻𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚎.

When I first stamped out of my car into the drenched dirt outside the dripping timber camp lodge, I never expected I would be shaking hands with a murderer that very night.

After a grueling five-hour drive past kilometers of damp forests and soggy clouds, I was relieved to finally arrive. I had been looking forward to this camping trip for months, as an escape from the staleness of my room and a fun hiking holiday in the mountains up island. I’d been to the camp the last year and the year before, and I considered myself pretty prepared for anything that might arise. I’d even come within sight of a bear last time – though it was technically on the other side of the lake. (I still prefer to see it as a dangerous and risky encounter.)

Once I’d hurled my backpack amongst the pile under a small, covered area on the gravel outside the camp kitchens and we’d sat down on little wooden stumps, we got to ice breakers. There were only five other campers, all new, and all other girls around my age. That was rather unusual. I’d never been in a camp that didn’t have a mix of kids, and I typically recognized at least one of them, but not this time.

The guide cleared her throat. Her name was Mikaela, but everyone called her Mike, and she was a young dirty blonde-haired woman with a grey windbreaker who was there every year I’d been.

“We’ll start by each naming a fun fact about ourselves,” Mike encouraged.

I hate that question. Immediately, every potentially interesting part about me flies out of my head. Maybe something about what I last ate? No, not really personal. How many teeth I have? No, not quite ideal.

A straw-haired girl, tall and splotched with freckles, started off the circle.

 

To be continued..

The feeling of being lost always overwhelms. While walking through the corridors, thoughts of giving up came to your mind. It was the first time you were away from home.  “Imagine being on your own”, you thought. You stood up and walked towards the classroom where the beginning of something amazing awaited for you. You sat down and opened your computer, sitting next to you was a girl with bright blonde hair. She offered you some sweets. Her kindness made you feel a lot better, meeting her was like finding sunlight in the middle of a storm. Without thinking it twice you asked, “Hey, can I hang out with you?”

That day, the school planned an event. You walked outside the classroom with your new friend and then, you met them. A tall girl with gorgeous green eyes; another with incredible dark wavy hair; one more with shiny dark red hair; someone with asian features and one who loves unique earrings.

You all walked to the court where the event was taking place. The girl with green eyes was in the same house as you. She was really nice, and curious about the country you grew up in. You talked a lot and time passed really quick. After playing games for a long time, you two walked towards your group of friends. You sat down to rest for a little bit and the girl with unique earrings approached you. You started talking, and you told her you were a boarding student from Mexico City. As soon as you stopped talking, she asked the question that would be the beginning of everything: “Entonces, ¿hablas español?” (So, do you speak Spanish?). Finding someone in an English speaking country who speaks your mother tongue always makes you feel happy and relieved. She said you were the first person she met of her age who spoke Spanish. You both talked for a long time about a lot of stuff. Maybe the two of you were really excited.

A few months passed, December arrived and the time to go back home too. You made tons of good memories with your friends. You lived happy, sad and beautiful moments together. It was then that you realized, you were never destined to be alone. You just had to wait for the right people to come into your life.

Guess the only thing left to say is

Thanks, Canada.

Gerald looked up at the dark clouds forming on the horizon. With one shaky hand, he clutched a cup that read “World’s Best Door Hinge Manufacturer”, and took a tentative sip of his tea. A big storm was coming, he could feel it. It would be raining cats and dogs soon, and he needed to start preparing the nets. It was nearing the end of Sumbar, and with any luck they would be able to secure enough food for the coming Winbar, if they worked quickly. He hobbled out the door and into the street, a few people were milling about and watching the sky. Minsey, his labrador retriever, bounded after him, or at least, as well as a three legged dog could bound. He found her during the previous storm -the carrot storm of ’76- and felt sorry enough for the poor creature that he decided to give her a home.

As they began the lengthy process of stringing up the large, tightly woven nets above every house and road, the first few clouds began to release their baggage. First was a pomeranian -“SPLAT!”-, next a chihuahua and a siamese -“SMACK!”-, and soon the storm was upon them. They needed to work faster. The nets were already filling up; cats and dogs screaming and whining as they tumbled through the air. One unlucky shih tzu bounced off the net Ms. Darney had strung up above her house, and landed with a splash in her pool; bobbing up to the surface after a few seconds and letting itself be retrieved by a very irritated Mr. Darney and his pool skimmer. Most citizens of Martwan had Mr. Darney’s reaction to the yearly produce storms, as a frustrating -but in the end necessary- part of the survival of the town, and the country of Alkept.

No one really knew what caused the storms, although there were many theories that circulated, ranging from benevolent gods to wormholes. Either way, the storms are the main source of income for the country, as a lot of the produce can be exported. The first wave of the storm began to sputter out, and as the dark clouds shed their last few animals, something new began to fall.

“Cabbages!” Ms. Hamkettle proclaimed -as the head of the Toastmaster club in town, she was well versed in making bold announcements before handing the stage over to someone more capable- while she peered through the binoculars she used for such occasions.

Cheers of joy echoed through the small crowd that was forming, and people began opening up their poculumbrellas.¹ Little Billy Hamkettle and the other neighbourhood children began using a cabbage as a soccer ball, but were soon ushered indoors after Emma Crocksocket, who was distracted by the game, got hit in the head by one of the falling cabbages and subsequently fell backwards, landing on a border collie.

As the storm slowly tapered out, people began hurriedly picking through the cabbages and choosing the best ones to take home. The nets were left up, letting the government vehicles later collect the leftovers to sell on the market. It was good system, Gerald thought, as he watched the large trucks haul the full nets into their semi-trailers. He took a half-hearted bite of his sautéed garlic cabbage² and as his mind wandered, a thought began to form. Gerald stopped chewing, and it suddenly struck him how important this particular thought was. He had done it; he had figured out what caused the storms. Before Gerald could even look around for a pen to write it down, a coconut came flying out of nowhere and smashed into the back of his head, killing him instantly. Somewhere, in the middle of nowhere, an incomprehensible entity let out a sigh of relief. No one should be able to figure it out that easily, after all.

¹A popular device that resembled an inverted umbrella, and served the purpose of catching produce while also protecting the user. The creator, Steven Marscum, was the third cousin of one of Gerald’s friend’s coworker; a fact that Gerold would tell to anyone who made the grave mistake of attending one of his monthly Norhtern-Martwan Communitee Betterment Cocktail Parties (or NMCBCP events as Gerold would lovingly refer to them).

²Which, ironically, didn’t contain any garlic. Gerald had run out recently, so he decided to replace it with cloves. He’d learned a valuable lesson about spice combinations that day.

Thank you to Hanli who gave me the prompts “cat” and “cabbage”.

The smell of that fresh breeze blows onto my face as I walk through the door. The scenery of the crystal clear water and the sound of the waves washing onto shore. Bringing me the childhood memories I have. As I explored the new home there was something that shook me. There was a body a dead body on the ground. I scream as loud as I can and it seems like no one can hear me. I sprinted to the door and tried to open it but the door didn’t budge to open at all. It felt like it had been locked from outside or someone might glued it shut. As I tried many countless ways to take the door down it still looked perfectly normal. So I just gave up. As I walked towards the body I saw that the body’s eyes had been opened. It gave me goosebumps. All of a sudden, I heard random noises like cracking and the stove turned on by itself. As I looked around everything seemed fine until I looked down at the body. The body isn’t there anymore there is only the blood. On the floor there a bloody handwriting. Which said…

I love pizza. it’s like a flavor party! Crunchy crust with yummy toppings, each slice is a tasty masterpiece. Whether it’s classic cheese or something exotic, pizza makes me smile with every bite.

Sushi is another fave. Fresh fish, rice, and seaweed dance together in my mouth. It’s like a mini trip to Japan, where time slows down, and all I taste is pure deliciousness.

Let’s not forget chocolate! Whether it’s a dark truffle or a gooey brownie, every bite is a celebration. It’s like a tiny escape to a world of sweetness and joy.

These foods are like experiences in my life, bringing joy and memories with every taste. They’re the simple pleasures that make my world delicious.

Childhood.

Some forgotten place in the back of our minds,

Like a gem lost in a pit of gravel,

Or the light at the end of a tunnel.

Laughing with friends,

Climbing trees with delicate hands.

Running through the grasses,

Biking through the woods.

Innocent faces radiating joy,

Let your imagination take ahold.

Serenity, tranquility, bliss.

If only one could revisit these memories,

But all one can do is wish.

Since the moment I stepped on the airplane I knew this break was going to be more special than the others. On the airplane I was seated with two really good friends so the five hours went rushing. Hours later I arrived to Mazatlan! I was walking in the airport and I saw this amazing blonde boy walking by, I immediately felt this energy inside me that I had never felt before. That was the last time I saw him, or well, for now… All my family members and friends were waiting for my arrivance. Everything was still the same as how I left, the blue ocean the summer briss, and smiles everywhere. I for sure missed this place. One day I was walking by the ocean bay and stamped myself in the same blonde boy from the airport! This incredible connection went into my heart, We talked for hours and hours and for sure started a new chapter in my life.

Through the window, three objects are visible. The first building is a music store with everything you could possibly desire. Typically, you could hear them doing a little concert for customers on the weekends. Before this store had been built, the entire street and the large mountain in the distance were visible. The neighbor’s house is the second item you would see when looking out my window. It’s interesting to watch them because they always watch films and BBQ around the fire. And lastly, there is a Chinese restaurant directly across the road, and the food they serve is the best Chinese food I have tried so far.

Who would you run to first in a room filled with everyone you’ve ever met in your life? This is a question I was recently asked and now cannot stop thinking about.

If I was in a room filled with everyone I have ever met in my life I would run to my Grandma Hope first. I was a baby, just 2 years old, when she passed away. Although I am not able to remember her touch, she met me, she held me in her warm and loving embrace. My mother and father and everyone who met her says she was a beautiful woman, inside and out. She was an interior designer – a trait that I inherited. She loved indigenous art. Many of the pieces she bought are in my house right now. She also loved windchimes. We have 2 from her. One in my room, and one outside. A few years ago, I had asked my father about Grandma Hope and he told me many wonderful things about her; how much she loved me, how kind she was, her devotion, and her smile. Before my dad kissed me goodnight, the windchime in my room jingled softly. I do not know what happens after one passes away, or how much they are able to interact with the living, but I do know this was a message from her. A message saying that even though I never met her, she met me. And she loved me.

 

The air was crisp, carrying a sense of anticipation that couldn’t be shaken. The sky, once a canvas of muted greys, now transformed into a tapestry of white. The cold snaked around many onlookers, but still, they waited with bated breath. The ground prepared for the lush blankets of snow that were soon to paint the world white. The earth held its breath, patiently awaiting the first snowfall. As the first flakes descended, they pirouetted, caught in a silent ballet. Intricate snowflakes swept the skies with the magic of winter. The trees, once skeletal figures from the autumn months, slowly came back alive, adorned with glittering crystals and powder snow.

The first snowfall was not just a change in weather; it was a shift in perspective. Where people once complained of the cold, they now lay, enjoying the serenity that the weather provided. Hats, mitts, and coats were adorned, and soon the streets were filled with children’s laughter and the smiles of onlookers.

The winter has never been just a season. It brings joy and delight to most, and it has always had a special place in my heart. In the small neighbourhood I grew up in, the first snowfall was nothing short of a magical spectacle. I remember waking up and rushing to the window to see the blankets of snow layering the ground. The air itself was different, more crisp and clear than ever before.

Bounding up the stairs, I would find my family watching the sky in wonder. We’d laugh, enjoying the simplicity of the moment. Then came the utter excitement. My brother and I would rush back down the stairs, adorn our small boots and jackets, and fight over who got the better mittens. We’d creak open the door and feel the cold chill of the air, but nothing could stop us from running into the white powder that awaited us. He and I would make snow angels, sled down the most dangerous slopes, and enjoy the snow. Then finally came the competition; the fort fight. After hours of building forts and sledding, we’d eventually get tired and retire to the warmth and comfort of our childhood home.

Our mother would have prepared hot chocolate and lit the fireplace, and we would all sit around the warmth that it provided to chase away the bitter chill that had settled under our bones. In the evening, when the sun had fallen beyond the horizon, I would lay in bed and feel an immense sense of gratitude. The first snowfall wasn’t just about the snow; it was a gift, a memory etched in the fabric of my childhood, a reminder that even in the coldest of seasons, warmth and wonder could be found.

 

 

 

The ocean can be gentle currents,
Which frolic against the shore like a handful of serpents.
It encompasses and dances along the land,
Carving pictures amongst each grain of sand.

The ocean can be frightful torrents,
Sprouted from red hot cores of the ocean floor.
Crashing and booming like a gunshot in the distance,
One can’t help but wonder about its damaging persistence.

The ocean can be tiny whispers,
Drowned by the laughing of the passing sisters.
The ocean air settling on the tongue,
A nostalgic sensation portraying the young.

The ocean can be still as if finally freed,
Yet, reality is only entangled in a reef full of seaweed.
Like ancient sunken gold,
That choke in what was foretold.

It is the most faithful companion I have ever earned,
Only dissipating from the fear to be eventually burned.
Undesirable but loyal, always accompanying me,
Away to the outskirts in spite of the irony.

When I was a kid, there was this cool bunch of trees near my house. They were like my secret hideout, a place where I could go with my friends to hang out. Me and my friends used to climb the trees and when on top of the trees would just start talking, feeling as comfortable as ever, we would just talk..

Those trees knew all my childhood secrets. We’d talk about everything with the trees beside us, as if their leaves held some kind of tranquility. In the summer, the shade they threw down was a lifesaver, shielding us from the blazing sun. And when fall came, it was like our own little party with leaves raining down, and us playing with the leaves below that had fell.

I’ve moved out of that neighborhood, but those trees are in my memories. I remember when I fell from one and scraped half of my arm from the elbow to my wrist. Now, I sometimes think about the times when I would have fun with just trees and leaves.